Black Inertia
by Overseerneversleeps
Summary: The Twelfth Doctor and Sarah Jane decide to take a vacation on a luxury space ship. What was supposed to be a relaxing time soon turns into a night of terror when they find themselves under attack by Weeping Angles. Outnumbered and backed into a corner, they must fight for their lives. Sequel to A Cold Reunion. Part 2 of "The Twelfth Hour"
1. Chapter 1: A New Adventure

_(Author's Note: Welcome to Black Inertia, the sequel to my previous fic A Cold Reunion, and part 2 of my series, "The Twelfth Hour" . This is the next adventure of The Twelfth Doctor and Sarah Jane Smith, and, as requested by the previous story's poll, it will feature the Weeping Angles. I highly recomend you read the previous fic in the series, as it will be refrenced frequently. I do not own Doctor Who or it's characters, nor do I claim to. Please enjoy, read and review! )_

The ever present hum of the engines was a constant comfort to Marcus Quinn. From the moment they shuddered to life, to the level whir once take off was complete there was never a more calming sound to him. It was the familiarity; in an ever changing, ever shifting galaxy, his job aboard the LSL Black Inertia was a place of stability.

Marcus was fit for a man of fifty eight. Tall and thin, with pale skin and defined muscles toned in a life of hard work, he was in better shape than most of his younger colleagues. His face was starting to show signs of age however, with light wrinkles around his eyes that made him look kind, and lines around his mouth from a tobacco habit he couldn't kick. His receding hair line was covered by a brown, wide brimmed hat. It matched his jacket and pants, both of which were emblazed with an authoritative badge. Marcus was a security guard, a job he had kept for two decades and running.

This job was aboard the finest Luxury Space-Liner of its class-The Black Inertia. The rich and the famous frequented the glamorous vessel as it cruised its way from planet to planet, passing swirling nebulas and twinkling stars. A human built vessel constructed on Keta-Major, it was created to look like the Earth ships of old, vessels that once floated across the water carrying passengers to islands for what historians referred to as "fun in the sun". Many had believed its archaic design, (as it was the spitting image of an ancient cruise liner, albeit much larger) would make the Inertia a novelty at best. However, it's top of the line amenities, expensive furnishings, and its art déco inspired style made it an immediate sensation. It was like stepping back in time, but without the technological limitations. As a result, people scrimped and saved to board the iconic vessel, and its popularity was evident. It had a waiting list of two years.

Being a guard on such a vessel was a job Mr. Quinn would never give up. He got to see the most beautiful sights the galaxy had to offer, brush shoulders with the most famous celebrities, eat only the finest food and live in a luxurious apartment he would never afford normally. What man in his right mind would give that up? Who would not love that? Marcus certainly loved it, and he was the first to admit it. Many men his age were looking to retire soon. He had no plans of doing so.

His heavy boots clunked down the velvet carpeted hall. The upper floors were primarily rooms, so they were mostly quiet but for the sounds of excited conversations and the shuffling of automatic doors as guests left to explore the ship. His rounds always began up here, to make sure nothing with the passengers was amiss.

Even though Marcus was fit, he rarely had to stop any real crimes. Once and awhile he had to escort a drunk guest to his room, or break up a liquor fueled brawl. Even those were rare occasions. Sometimes the mundane was broken up by something odd, such as a patron caught stealing the dining ware or the disappearance of an expensive coat. All were tame however, making his job rather relaxing. In a time of political strife and conflict, each voyage was an escape. The Black Inertia may as well have been its own country, free of all political affiliations and worries about tomorrow. Everyone on the trips seized the day, as though nothing else but their corner of the universe mattered. It was... refreshing.

"Marcus, are you there? We have a call," the sweet voice in his ear piece said.

"What is it Dorly?" he answered back. Dorly was his supervisor, a gorgeous Diplosian. She monitored the cameras for floors forty through fifty five. Marcus and she had a dinner date coming up when they next made port, which by his calculations, would be the next day. He was greatly looking forward to a night out on the town with the silver-skinned woman. It was a long time coming...

"A passenger has reported hearing strange noises coming from the cargo hold four. I can't see anything on the cameras... I think they've malfunctioned again. Can you go check it out?"

"Sure, I'll get right on that," he replied.

The way he saw it, it was one of two things. Either a passenger had smuggled a pet on board, which was strictly prohibited, or they had a stowaway. Stowaways were another common inconvenience of his job. Almost everyone wanted to take a trip on the Black Inertia, but many could not afford such a luxury. As a result, they tried to sneak on often. Most of the time, port security caught them, but people were getting clever now these days, using sonic disruptors and short range teleporters to fool or bypass scanners. They were lucky most people meant no one harm, because a slip up like that could lead to a catastrophe if the wrong person got on board. He had advocated better preemptive measures but upper management never listened to its employees.

He clunked down the hall to the employee elevator, and put his palm up to the scanner. He waited as a red light spread across it then beeped.

"Welcome Marcus Quinn," the computerized voice said, "I hope you are well today." The cylindrical doors slid to the side, letting him in.

Standing in the elevator's center, he looked up at the small camera above the doors.

"Cargo bay four," he shouted.

"Command accepted," the computer voice replied, "taking you to Cargo bay four." He felt the elevator begin to descend, shooting downward quickly. It then stopped, and he felt it fly to the right, then back up again. He had ridden on this elevator a million times before, but he could never get used to it. He still remembered when he was a kid and elevators could only go up and down. Horizontal travel always made him a tad nervous.

Back to the right it went, then came to a halt, and dinged loudly.

"You have reached your destination," the computer voice said, and the doors slid open.

The cargo hold was a gigantic space filled with large, sleek, metal containers. These held all kinds of supplies needed around the ship. Some were refrigerated and held food, others held the massive amounts of toiletries the ship went through on any given day. Some were heated to hold some of the exotic foods that required such special care. He also knew of a few that housed broken items that had yet to be fixed, such as chairs or electronics, and some garbage ready for dumping when they pulled into port.

Marcus stepped out of his elevator, and listened. Other than the drone of some of the units, he heard nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps there had been a misunderstanding, or something had just fallen over during take-off.

He walked forward anyway, his head on a swivel. He put his hand on his trusty blaster just in case, he did not want to take his chances after all. He had been lucky enough to never have to use his gun on the job, but like his father once told him, there was a first time for everything.

"Hello? Is there anyone here? I'm not going to hurt you," he shouted. That never made any stowaways come out but he still tried it every time. Most of the time they did get scared and start moving around though, which got them caught every time. He stopped and listened again.

Still nothing. He put his finger to his communicator in his ear.

"Dorly, I don't hear or see anything down here. I think we're all clear," he said called in, "something probably just fell over in one of the units or something."

"Alright, why don't you come back up and...," she started, but the transmitter was suddenly drowned in fuzzy static. He could only make out bits and pieces of her voice under all the noise.

"Dorly? I can't hear you! Repeat!" he said loudly to no reply.

He switched off his ear piece, not wanting to listen to the racket. That was very strange. Normally they had no trouble with the communication networks, or if they did it was a small hiccup. Actually, he could not think of a time when it had gone completely down.

Suddenly, he noted the ceiling lights start to flicker, dimming until they were almost off, then back to normal. That was even stranger, and was starting to give him the creeps. He shook his head and scolded himself. He'd been watching too many horror films lately, and he was being stupid.

A loud banging abruptly erupted behind him, like something slamming on the metal containers. He whipped around, pulling his blaster from his holster.

"Come out now, and put your hands up!" he shouted. The sound had echoed in the big hold, but he could tell it came from the back somewhere. He started walking forward slowly, his gun up and his eyes focused. If he saw anyone down here, he would fire a warning shot first. That usually convinced people to stop whatever they were doing.

As he tiptoed forward the lights above flickered again, this time blacking out completely for a second or two. Whoever this was definitely had a disrupter device of some kind. How else could he do that to the lights?

Bang bang. He heard it again, from close by. It definitely came from the second to last container that was supposed to be storing food. It was from the inside.

He smirked. Poor blighter probably stowed away on the dock, not knowing it was a refrigerated container. He was probably frozen half to death by now.

He walked up to the big doors of the container, and banged his fist against them.

"Alright, I know you are in there. I'm going to open these doors, and when I do, I want to see your hands in the air. If they aren't you will be shot. Do you understand me?" Marcus shouted. There was no reply. Fine by him, he was done playing.

He gripped the door handle, turned it, and yanked it open. What he saw inside surprised him.

He had almost shot the human shaped figure, but he realized right away it was a just a statue. Made out of grey stone, it was sculpted into the shape of a women wearing a chiton. A pair of angelic wings sprouted from her back, something that may have made it more appealing were it not standing with its head down and its hands covering its face in utter despair. He imagined it should have made him feel sad, but the statue only succeeded in sending a chill up his spine. Something about it gave him the creeps that he could not put his finger on.

Moreover, this was odd. This rather morbid statue did not fit the Black Inertia's general ambiance. It looked almost like something more comfortable in ancient Greece back on Earth, not here in an art déco paradise. Furthermore, this was a refrigerator unit meant for food and other perishables, not a statue. This was all very strange.

Much to his surprise more loud banging erupted from the room, this time from the container next to him. He narrowed his gaze at the big metal box. Something funny was going on here, and he wasn't laughing. He stomped his way over to the next container, ready to open it.

His heard a light pitter patter of footsteps on the metal floor somewhere behind him. Marcus whipped around, his gun held level in front of him. Whomever this was wanted to scare him, but the guard refused to falter.

He found nothing behind him. He glanced around, finding only the angel statue in the container beside him. He did a bit of a double take this time however. It looked a few feet closer than it had been, and like its head was a bit more. The shook his head and blinked, rubbing his eyes. He was just tired and being paranoid. Statues don't move.

Bang. Bang. Again came the slamming behind him, and the lights above flickered on and off.

Marcus had now had enough of this. He turned around, and purposefully walked to the next container. He was about to open it, when yet another sound caught his ear. Echoing from within the container was a light, child-like giggle. It reminded him of when his daughter was a young girl, chasing butterflies in the yard, laughing and carefree.

Marcus smiled a bit, and holstered his gun. It was just a couple of kids playing tricks on him. He suddenly felt very silly for being so worked up. He should have known it was only a couple of kids mucking about.

"It's alright, come on out, Uncle Marcus isn't going to hurt you," he called out. He wanted to find them as soon as possible, he was sure their parents were worried sick. He pulled open the container's big doors.

No children playfully hid within. Instead, even more of those creepy statues stood in their mournful stance, except rather than one there were four or five. Littered around their feet were smaller statues resembling cherubs from old myths. These covered their eyes as well, but had playful grins on their faces, as though they were playing hide and seek and counting gleefully.

"I don't..." he muttered, confused. He knew it had come from that container. Yet there was nothing inside but more of those hideous statues. More footsteps came from behind him, these hurried.

Marcus turned around. At the end of the row of containers stood another angelic statue, its face in its hands. Fear gripped Marcus in its chilly grasp. That had not been there a second ago. He would have seen it... how could he not notice something so eerie? He turned his head back to the container.

All but one were in the same place. One of the small cherubs had moved ever so slightly, just a few inches. Its chubby hand was outstretched, while it's other palm covered it's eyes.

How was any of this possible? Statues don't move. They're rocks, not living things. His head whipped back, finding the statue across the room now closer, its head lifted slightly. Marcus pulled his gun from his holster, and aimed it at the statue.

"Stay back! Don't you come any closer! I'm warning you!" he yelled. He started stepping backwards, keeping his eyes on the statue. He wanted to see it move... to know he wasn't insane. That this wasn't just some trick being played on him by his mind or his eyes.

As he stepped back the tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, heralding danger. He quickly glanced over his shoulder. He jumped, and spun around again, for standing behind him was yet another statue. This one's horrific face was revealed, a monstrous woman with nothing but evil in her sculpted eyes. Her face was contorted into an angry scream, showing off her mouth full of sharp teeth. Her clawed hands reached toward Marcus, wishing to grab him.

"Get back! Stay away from me!" Marcus shouted. Terror gripped him as he readied to pull the trigger.

Marcus Quinn would not be afraid for long however. He did not see the statue that crept up beside him. He did not feel its stone finger brush the side of his neck. With that one touch, Marcus disappeared, his gun clattering to the floor, the last remnant of the kind security guard. He was gone in the blink of an eye, like he never existed in the first place, and as the lights dimmed to black, so too did the Weeping Angels, off to find their next quarry.

There was much feeding to be done tonight, and they were only just beginning.

* * *

A strange grinding echoed throughout an expensive suite on one of the Black Inertia's topmost floors, followed by a dull "thunk". Were a stranger to walk in right now, they would find an archaic blue police box, the likes of which were not seen anymore. It would be a strange sight to any to behold, except for those familiar with its pilot, The Doctor.

With a loud creak, the front door opened, and said man stepped out. He was an older man, with prickly grey hair and a hooked nose. His piercing blue eyes swept around the room, his gaze always unwavering, assessing, and deducing. A slight smirk came to his wrinkled face and he patted the corner of his ship, the Tardis. He then adjusted the cuffs of his black waistcoat and the collar of his white undershirt. He then bent down and checked the laces of his boots. He always liked to look his best after all.

"Are we here? Did we land in the right place this time?" called the English accented, female voice from inside the ship.

"Yes, yes, of course we are," his Scottish voice replied, "that business in the Corapax Nebula was just a fluke."

"You call two thousand light-years away and three decades late a fluke? I'll remember that next time I make a mistake," his companion returned.

Said companion, Sarah Jane Smith, stepped out of the Tardis. A woman in the middle of her life, she was by far, The Doctor's oldest friend. With chocolate colored hair that had begun to grey, and a kind, heart shaped face struck by wrinkles here and there, she smiled broadly to the man with whom she travelled. Her attire was far more casual than her Time Lord friend; as she wore a dark red cardigan and a pair of blue jeans. Still, her subtle clothes was clean and simple, a style that never went away.

"We were still in the same century, that's not that bad. She just got it a little wrong this time, no harm done," he shrugged, patting the police box reassuringly, "we got here now, that's all that matters."

"Speaking of which, where are we exactly? You have been awful shifty about where we were headed," she asked.

"I thought I would surprise you with a bit of fun, considering this is our first real adventure together in a long time," he replied, "and I'm not counting that market on Karpis yesterday."

"With what you stepped in, I should think not," she chuckled. He shook his head. They should have gone there in 5123. He had forgotten how far downhill it went after that.

"In any event, I'll give you one guess before I tell you," he smiled mischievously. She would never figure it out in a million years, and he knew it. He saw his old friend glance around the room.

This room was a very simple yet elegant hotel room. A pair of beds adorned one wall, both twins and covered in vibrant, satin bedspreads. In the center sat a low, glass top coffee table, topped with a vibrant, potted croton. Pretty wooden dressers sat against a nearby wall, there fronts carved with maple leaves and trees along the sides and drawers. The room was lit by a diamond chandelier that twinkled pleasingly, as well as wall sconces shaped like candles. Stark white walls mixed with black tile floors, completing the ambiance.

"Hmmm," he heard his friend murmur. He saw her cover her mouth in her cupped hand, and tap the side of her nose with her index finger, deep in thought. She glanced around the room, then shook her head.

"I give up, where are we?" she finally caved.

"Perhaps I should show you," he said, quickly brushing passed her. He reached the door of the room and rested his palm on the handle. "I chose this room because of the view outside. I think it's rather... magnificent."

He opened the door, walking out, with Sarah Jane following close behind. As they entered the hall, he heard his companion gasp.

The glorious hall before them stretched out in either direction. The wall behind them contained door after door, each plausibly containing a room similar to the one The Doctor and Sarah had just exited. Ahead however was far more impressive.

Glass windows reached from floor to ceiling, allowing guests to look out upon the awe inspiring vista of space itself. In the distance, stars twinkled pleasingly, tracing patterns around one and other in a celestial dance to beautiful for words. These however, were only the smallest delights the scene had to offer. To the east, a blazing, red sun was fully visible, tinting the glass in amber and auburn colors. Planets of all colors and sizes floated in the distance. One was bright green, was a floating belt of asteroids circling it. Another was a deep purple, with a pair of vertical, icy rings hugging it. Moons orbited most nearby, sitting vigil over the worlds they called home. To the west, splashes of color painted the space like the brushstrokes of a magnificent artist. Pink and orange mixed with blue and red, creating a star strewn nebulae like no other, swirling like a colorful pond in the depths of the heavens. Further northwest, barely visible was its twin, this one in hues of green and aqua.

Sprawled out below was the bow of a massive ship. It appeared to be a cruise ship like those in the twenty first century, though this one was painted in black with trusses in gold. Floor after floor was visible, descending down like a skyscraper to the main deck below.

"Welcome to the LSL Black Inertia, the finest vessel of its kind," The Doctor announced, spreading his arms out wide.

"Good God..." Sarah Jane murmured, her deep eyes locked on the space-scape before them, "you still have a flair for the dramatic... I'll give you that much."

"As though you would have it another way," he smirked.

"Absolutely not," she replied.

He and Sarah Jane had known each other for longer than he cared to admit, nearly all of his many lives. She knew him better than most, and as the most loyal of friends should, she accepted his many flaws and idiosyncrasies, and he hers. They had only recently begun traveling together after a long absence of one and other's company, and looking over at his old friend, rapt at the scene before her, he was happy to be with her once more.

"I must say," she started after a short time, "you've picked a good opener, I will give you that." He only nodded in reply.

The Doctor eyed his oldest friend, then the depths of space again. He wondered what she was thinking right now. How amazing this was perhaps? How beautiful the universe could truly be? He could hazard a guess, but only just. He could appreciate the boundless splendor, yes but in many ways he had gotten used to it. He saw the mysteries and whole of the universe on a daily basis. He had seen things no other had seen, witnessed birth and death of stars a hundred times over.

Fleetingly, his mind wandered to his home world, Gallifrey. His world was lost among the cosmos, tossed like a stone into the rapids of a river, landing who knew where. It was up to him and only him to find it. He was the last of his people, as far as he knew, and the weight of finding those that were lost weighed on his shoulders like a cross he could barely carry.

His intense blue eyes scanned the stars ever searching. He wanted to see something out of place, a planet that did not belong, or a star that was out of alignment. Just one that was wrong. It would herald the return of his home world.

A scowl came to his face when he saw that everything was where it should be. He knew that it would not be so easy of course, but he could still hope... no matter how small that hope was.

He pushed it out of his mind for now. There was no purpose in dwelling on what was lost... not for now. Not in the company of a friend such as Ms. Smith. Today was meant to a happy day, of adventure and fun, not a melancholy of what was lost and could not be found.

"Come Sarah, what do you say we have a bit of fun," he said, clapping his hands together and tossing his friend an ornery wink. She returned with a side long glance.

"Bet I can beat you to the lift," she abruptly said, and before the Time Lord had a chance to reply took off down the hall, quick as a girl half her age. With a grin, The Doctor took off behind her, his hearts feeling light.

Neither of them knew of the darkness that lurked in the shadows. A darkness that would soon envelope them.


	2. Chapter 2: Flicker

_(Author's Note: sorry to you guysfor taking so long for this it has been a busy week, and i have been in a creative slump lately. Maybe this will help. Enjoy)_

The elevator shot downwards at a high speed, a pressurized feeling The Doctor was quite used to. He felt it stop shortly, then move to the left, and down again.

"Ohh, side moving lifts, very classy," Sarah Jane commented. The Doctor could see the woman was nearly bristling with excitement. It warmed both of his old hearts to see her so happy.

"So you know, everything is going on my ship account, which I have cleared you access to," The Doctor stated, "it's under the name John Smith." He had boarded the Black Inertia many times throughout his various lives, usually when he needed a break from all the stress. He was actually considered a preferred customer, and his credit account got multiple discounts on nearly everything.

"I'll be sure to use it should I need to," Sarah Jane replied. The Doctor nodded. Ahead of the pair, the doors chuffed open.

Stretched out before them was the Black Inertia's main floor. The first thing that stood out was the massive diamond encrusted chandelier hanging down from the arched ceiling. In the shape of a swan, it sparkled pleasingly in the light, almost beckoning the passengers forward. It was centered with a grand stairwell that swept elegantly down from an upper floor. Embellished with a red carpet, it would have been right at home in an old Victorian mansion.

Along the walls, stretching out passed the stairs, and presumably on the floor above, were opening after opening, leading to other parts of the ship. All of them had signs, some subtle and quiet. While others glowed loudly with neon colors. Some led to restaurants of any cuisine imaginable. While others had clubs where music was played and people danced. There were many places that showed live entertainment, whether music or artistic performance, which were always a joy to behold. If one wished to, they could even take the elevator up to a space-themed casino, where the rich could throw away their time and money one dollar at a time. No matter what one wanted to do, the Black Inertia had it all.

The people walking the floor were just as diverse. Many were humans, though their styles of dress varied wildly from person to person depending on what planet they hailed from. Still other races milled about, too many types to count. Some were reptilian Sulurians, others metallic-looking Diplosians. One could even spot Rhinocerid Joduun or spine-skinned Zocci. There were more beyond those; the ship was truly a microcosm of the civilized galaxy, all coming together to have a good time. To The Doctor, there was something beautiful in that. Something pure.

"This is very classy, Doctor. I don't know what to do first!" Sarah Jane chirped happily, clapping her hands together.

"Well, I have a Gýrothian Flame Dance booked for three o'clock at The Azure Crossing, which is about... two hours from now," he replied.

"Gýrothian Flame Dance? Now that is something I have to see," she answered enthusiastically.

"I thought you would feel that way, which is why I booked it," he smiled, "it is most fascinating. I picked some seats near the middle, mostly because I don't want to lose my eyebrows this time." He had made the unfortunate decision of sitting at the front row a few lives ago. No one takes a Time Lord with no eyebrows seriously.

"You still know me so well after all these years," she said back with a smile.

"Of course I do," he shrugged. How could he not? This was Sarah Jane after all, a woman who had known nearly every version of him. Although she had only known him for a few decades, a long time in the eyes of a human, he had known her for centuries. Time travel had a way of mixing up the streams like that, but regardless of how the years had crept along for either, they still managed to know one another on a deeper level than they could achieve with most. A connection that spanned the eons... who else could he have that with besides her.

"What do you say we go our separate ways for now, and meet back here at two thirty? That will give you ample time to explore at your leisure and myself time to relax," he reasoned, then gave her a sly grin, "I can't have you in my hair all day after all."

"You missed me and you know it, you git," she replied, rolling her eyes and giving him a playful shove.

"It's settled then? Two thirty?"

"Sounds like a plan to me,"

"Excellent," he nodded, "should you need me, you can find me in The Alnitak Cafe."

"Oh, is that your haunt around here?" she asked with a raised brow.

"Why of course Sarah, you should know by now I always keep things classy," he returned, once again adjusting the cuffs of his coat. He could not have himself looking shabby after all, not in the Alnitak.

"Oh yes, always," she nodded with a grin, "including when you jaunted about in that patchwork coat that looked like a quilt on acid?"

"We're not going to speak of that," he said sharply, holding up his hand. That was the only problem being around someone intimately familiar with almost all the facets of your life, they also knew all of the things you were not proud of. How ridiculous he looked in those days... what was he thinking? He pushed that out of his mind. He could analyze his past self's fashion sense later.

"Anyway, that's where you can find me should the need arise," he finished.

"Alright, I'll see you soon then. Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he answered. With that, The Doctor and his companion parted ways.

* * *

The Doctor soon found himself in front of his favorite hangout aboard the Black Inertia, The Alnitak Cafe. Located by the bow of the ship, it was immediately recognizable by its distinctive neon sign. Shining with bright red neon, it depicted a stylized version of the constellation Orion. He held his bow aloft, and flashing lights made it appear as though he fired an arrow into a lime green cocktail glass. Beneath it was the club's name, in elegant cursive. The sign always made The Doctor smile for some reason. Perhaps it was the clever way it alluded to the place's name, or maybe the way it faked movement with its display. He walked through the open archway, and inside.

The Alnitak was always bathed in a cool teal light, reminding him of being under water. It always reflected off the black and white tile floor, giving one the feeling of true emersion. The Doctor found this very relaxing, almost soothing. It had a way of slowing down his constantly moving head something that had become a rarity for him these days.

The furnishings too were quite fancy. Around ten round tables were scattered around the room. Each was made of a dark wood and adorned with a crystal vase containing a candle. Only two chairs sat at each, making it a very intimate spot for couples. The tables faced the club's main attraction; a large stage. Although now obscured by a thick, red curtain, a band played here every hour or so.

This was another thing that drew him to the Alnitak. The music was a mish mosh of old songs from many different periods, covered in a big band style. It gave new life to something that was old and nearly forgotten by some. The Doctor always appreciated that. He was never one who thought the past should slip away.

He walked in, taking his regular seat near the front, right by the stage. He slid down into the familiar chair, pressing the switch on the table to turn on the candle. The flame flickered to life, dancing pleasingly along a wick that would never burn down. The way it reflected off the crystal vase cast geometric patterns upon the surface in front of him, making the space all the more moody.

Soon after he sat down, a peckish-looking young man in a suit approached him, holding a tray of wine glasses.

"Good afternoon sir, and welcome to The Alnitak Cafe, may I offer you a glass of wine or brandy," he asked, lowering the tray down. The Doctor waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head. He did not feel like being bothered today. The young man walked away, passing around to the other tables. Looking around, it was not overly busy this this afternoon. Good, he didn't particularly enjoy crowds much anymore.

As he sat he saw the lights dim down. At first he believed it was the stage show beginning, but then they came back on at full power, only to flicker for a second again. He narrowed his cold eyes at the ceiling. That... was strange. Never had he seen the lights upon the Black Inertia flicker as such, ignoring one time when they passed through a solar flare. There were no flares in the forecast for this trip however, and with huge generators the power was always steady. How very strange.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," a smooth, sultry voice came over the club intercom, "please direct your attention to the stage. I now present to you, straight from the Horse Head Nebulae, The Ursa Majors!"

As the curtain rose, The Doctor as well as the rest of the guests applauded loudly, accompanied by a few yells and a whistle or two. Once fully risen, the curtain revealed a band of five. All of them but one were human men, wearing old style suits and fedoras, much like gentlemen wore in the nineteen fifties. At the front stood the lead singer, a true sight to behold.

She was a Silurian, as obvious from her scaly, dark green skin. Her face was quite pretty though; with wide, purple eyes and a straight nose she appeared almost regal in her countenance. The fins reaching from the side of her head up to the back were tipped in blue makeup, something considered quite risqué in her people's culture. She wore a dark blue gown that reached nearly to the floor, and The Doctor noted she was barefoot. While the band behind her had instruments, she only stood in front of the microphone with her hands behind her back.

"Welcome to The Alnitak Cafe, and thank you for coming," she started. Her voice had that husky quality men seemed to like so much, something The Doctor never quite understood. Then again, when did the mating habits of any species make sense? "I've been playing shows here for only a little while but every night I am welcomed like family. I have never felt more at home anywhere else, and I want you to know I love each and every one of you. Maybe this song will help you love me too." With the last word, the band started to play. The Doctor recognized the tune immediately.

"I don't want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart

In my heart I have but one desire, and that one is you, no other will do,

I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim, I just want to be the one you'd love,

And with your admission that you feel the same, I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of... believe me

I don't want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart

I don't want to set the world on fire, honey, I love you too much

I just want to start a great big flame down there, in your heart

You see, way down inside of me, darling, I have only one desire

And that one desire you, and I know, nobody else ain't gonna' do I've lost all ambition for worldly acclaim, I just want to be the one you'd love,

And with your admission that you feel the same, I'll have reached the goal I'm dreaming of... believe me

I don't want to set the world on fire, I just want to start a flame in your heart."

As the song ended the Silurian took a small bow and flashed a charming smile. Applause accompanied the end, including The Doctor's. He was always fond of the music from that era. It had a certain simple purity that seemed to get lost somewhere as time went on. It was nearly forgotten now, but some still kept it alive. Always appreciated that.

She backed away from the microphone, giving a light, two handed wave before the curtain descended. She was a wonderful performer to be sure, with a captivating voice that transformed the stage. He could not help but admire that. There was something beautiful in it.

As the thoughts about the performance passed through his head, the aqua lights dimmed and flickered once again, blacking out altogether for a second or two, before coming back on.

"Curious," he muttered to himself. He had begun to think perhaps it was a technical difficulty before. That perhaps a stage hand had pressed the wrong switch or there had been a slight power surge. That wouldn't explain a second flicker.

He shook his head and tried to ignore it. He was on vacation. This was supposed to be his time to relax. It was probably nothing.

"It's probably Cybermen or Dalaks," that little voice in the back of his head said. He set his jaw. No, it was probably nothing.

"Don't investigate it. Just sit here and relax," he whispered to himself, "don't get up, don't get up, don't get up," he repeated like a mantra. Why should he look into it?

Because it might be something interesting, that's why. He felt around for his sonic screwdriver in his pocket, and took it into his hand. He had to see what this was about. It was probably nothing but... who really knew?

* * *

Sarah Jane Smith had always loved the water, so it was a surprise to no one that she found her way to the pool. Contained in a massive octagon shaped room, the perfectly round body of water was clear and comforting to the weary. A small, round platform sat in the center, with a pretty starblossem tree growing from it, giving it an ambiance it may have lacked otherwise. The northern walls were made of glass like those upstairs, revealing the same space vista she had seen upstairs. Being in the presences of both pure water and the gorgeous cosmos was heavenly.

If there was one thing she missed about her travels with The Doctor, it was things like this. She got to see the most wonderful parts of the universe, across all of time and space. Who would not love that? She couldn't think of anyone.

Without her swim clothes, taking a dip in the pool was not really an option, but wooden beach chairs surrounded the pool. To Sarah Jane, this was the perfect place to kick back.

Laying in the chair, she could hear the sounds of families playing in the water. Up above, stars twinkled brightly and swirling nebulas slowly crept by. She noticed how it all reflected off the water, almost as though the guests were swimming in space itself.

But as her eyes gazed into black of the universe, part of her couldn't believe that she was actually here. She had never dreamed in a million years she would be traveling with The Doctor once again. She had resigned herself to never climbing back in the Tardis. In fact she promised herself she wouldn't. Not only did she feel like she was too old for it, but she was never fine with the way The Doctor just dropped her off in Scotland when they first traveled together. Despite how much she cared for him, she always held him leaving against him to some degree.

Until they ran into each other by chance a week ago. After an escapade with an Ice Warrior and a massive break in at Unit Headquarters, they were back together again. It was too tempting to not join The Doctor once again. He was a new man, and she was older than she had been all those years ago. Wiser. It would be a lie to say she hadn't missed this. Nothing compared to tearing through time and space with her oldest friend.  
"It's beautiful isn't it? I can't get over it," a voice beside her said, shaking her from her thoughts. She turned her head to see a pretty young woman in her mid-twenties. She had ear length blonde hair, and light blue eyes, with lightly freckled cheeks and a dimpled chin. Her smile was decidedly genuine, something one did not see every day. She wore a brown t-shirt with an anchor sitting atop a ringed planet, the Black Inertia's logo. This was paired by a flowing white skirt, and a pair of sandals.

"It's absolutely beautiful. I've never seen anything like it," Sarah Jane replied. That was a bit of a fib, but she couldn't rightly say she does this all the time.

"Oh is this your first time? How lucky!" the girl chattered excitedly, pawing her shoulder. Sarah nodded.

"It is, I've been meaning to do this for a while, but... you know."

"Oh I do! The waiting list is getting ridiculous! I'm glad I book these trips so far in advance because if I didn't I may never get on! All my friends think I'm crazy but do you see them anywhere?" she laughed.

"How many times have you been?" Sarah asked.

"This is my fourth full trip, and I've done two halves. You would think it would become old hat by now, but I still can't get enough of it."

"I don't see how you can. It's like climbing Everest, it's amazing no matter how many times you've done it," Sarah Jane replied.

"You mean that mountain on Earth? Oh I've never been there! Is it nice?" she asked, leaning in close.

"Oh I just love it. It's where I'm from actually," Sarah Jane replied honestly.

"Oh! You're the first Earthling I've ever met, how fascinating it must be to live where we originally came from. I was born on a med station outside of Cantoris, but I grew up in the Andromida Cluster," she replied, "oh my, that reminds me, I haven't introduced myself. Katrina Starlight." She held out her hand.

"Sarah Jane Smith," she smiled, shaking it, "it's a pleasure to meet you Katrina." The young woman gave her a grin, then scooched back, spreading out on the chair into a full lounging position.

"So, Sarah Jane, you come here with anyone? Or you all by your lonesome?" she asked after a bit.

"I'm here with my friend, John," she replied, using The Doctor's age old alias, "he's over at a place called The Alnitak right now."

"He's the fancy type is he?" Katrina giggled.

"He has his moments. It depends on when you meet him really," she reasoned. That was technically true.

"Men hmm? So moody," she sighed, "but what would we do without them?"

"I'd be sitting at home being boring probably," Sarah joked. Katrina laughed.

"Man of action then?"

"You have no idea," she said rolling her eyes, "he gets us in trouble everywhere we go."

"A little trouble is fun sometimes though, don't you think? I mean, otherwise life just gets tedious and..." Katrina was cut off mid-sentence however, as the lights suddenly flickered on and off, then dulled for a moment, and came back on in full.

"Hmm that was odd," Katrina said, glancing up.

"Does that happen often?" Sarah asked. That didn't make her feel as secure if there were power fluctuations like that. Especially on a ship this big.

"Actually, I have never seen it happen. I wonder what's going on," the girl replied, sounding concerned, "maybe it was just a rogue solar flare," she shrugged.

"I don't know. Could be," said Sarah. It wouldn't be the first time she had seen a power outage on a ship due to flairs. It was rare but it happened.

Katrina lowered her gaze looking out at the pool. Sarah Jane saw her tilt her head and screw up her face.

"That's a creepy statue..." she trailed off, "in all the times I have been on this ship, I never noticed it before."

Sarah Jane glanced at the pool's tree platform, which was where Katrina was looking. Standing at the base of the tree was a stone statue of a woman with angle wings. Her face was buried in her hands, in a mournful pose. A chill ran up Sarah's spine. It was eerie indeed, and something about it rubbed her the wrong way. Who would put something so ugly by a public pool? There was no accounting for taste here obviously. Moreover, she hadn't noticed it either. In fact, if she didn't know better, she would say it hadn't been there before. That was silly though. She probably just missed it in all the excitement. She leaned back and her eyes fell back to the windows. Relaxation flooded over her, and she did her best to ignore the lights as they then started to flicker.

* * *

The Doctor stood from his seat, casually walking across the restaurant. He knew there was a maintenance door to the left of the stage and he headed for it. He was sure no one would mind him snooping around, not really. What was the harm? He approached the closed door marked "Staff Only". He tested the handle and found it locked.

That was quite alright. That was what his sonic screwdriver was for. A long cylindrical shaped tool with a green light up head, it was his signature piece of equipment. He almost never left the Tardis without it. He glanced over his shoulder, making sure that no one was looking at him. Not that he cared if they were. People tended to be too stupid to know or even notice what he was doing anyway.

He pointed the sonic screwdriver at the handle and messed with the settings until he found the right one. He clicked the button, and the tool made a light warbling sound. He heard a click come from the door as it unlocked. The sonic screwdriver worked like a charm every time, and it had many more applications than that.

He turned the handle and pushed the door open. A stark metal hall stretched out ahead of him, shaped in a T. It was like every other maintenance hall in any starship floating about out there. He was sure this section, The Alnitak Cafe and the surrounding places ran off a localized breaker box. Just one little look see and he would be back to relaxing. It would take two minutes, not even.

He walked up the hall with purpose. He figured if he looked like he belonged, people would think he did. That always fooled people for the most part. They were dopey that way.

As he reached the intersection ahead, his vision was suddenly filled by another man. They collided together, and the Time Lord stumbled backwards, clunking his back into the wall behind him. The other man did the same thing, grunting loudly. The Doctor looked up, seeing the man he just bumped into.

He was a dark skinned man in his middle years. He had a wide nose and mouth, with cheeks smeared with soot and grease. He wore a simple outfit of a loose button down shirt with suspenders and a pair of loose pants. These too were smeared from a hard day's work. He held a clip board in his hands, likely the cause of his lack of attention.

"Watch where you're going! You could kill someone!" The Doctor shouted, standing straight and fixing his coat.

"Yeah sorry 'bout that mister, I was a bit dist..." he mumbled, then glanced up, looking at The Doctor with a cocked head, "I... don't think you're supposed to be back here... you lost?" he asked.

"No, I'm not actually," he said charismatically, "The name is John Smith."

"Oh...kay," he stammered back.

"I saw your power fluctuations while I was sitting in The Alnitak, and I thought I could help you. I'm a chief engineer on a different ship, and I know quite a lot about triple oxcilator power systems in a spread format like you have here," he explained. Technology jargon always got him through, and it was not technically a lie, he was the Tardis' chief engineer. He knew that ship inside and out, and that knowledge often helped with other vessels.

"Well... I'm not supposed to let anyone back here... but I could actually use a hand," he replied, "I'm Secondary Engineer Dawson. Here... come with me..." he awkwardly trailed off, motioning for him to come.

Dawson and The Doctor began down the left hall, walking briskly. Dawson started talking as they did.

"You noticed the power fluctuations, and I don't understand it. It's very out of the norm for this ship, especially without any contributing factors. I originally thought it was just in this sector, but it wasn't. I got reports from every other part of the ship saying the same things; flickering lights, power shutting off, everything that happened here. Vickers over in sector seven thinks it started in the cargo hold but we had people check it out and we haven't heard anything back. I'm not really sure what is going on. It has me stymied." Dawson finished.

"You've made sure there is nothing tampering with the power? No jammers, or disruptors or anything time that?" The Doctor asked. This was far more than just a minor glitch if it was occurring everywhere. He could feel it.

"As far as I know, no. They check for that sort of thing before passengers get on board," Dawson answered. The pair turned another corner, and Dawson opened a door.

The room was a breaker room. Along the walls were giant levers connected to masses of wires and tubing. They were labeled with letters and symbols. Other panels hung from the adjoining walls, and a pile of tools lay in one corner. The Doctor pushed his way passed, taking up his screwdriver.

He pressed the button, and it warbled loudly, with him waving it around. He caught Dawson giving him a strange look, but he ignored it. Like he was thinking before, humans never caught on... poor pudding brains. He checked the readings on his tool.

They were mostly normal, meaning whatever was disrupting the power wasn't in this room. It was coming from somewhere else altogether. He then walked forward, and scanned the box itself.

"What are you…" Dawson started.

"Shhh," The Doctor hushed, waving his hand at him. He didn't need the distraction. After a few seconds he again looked at the sonic.

"Semi interrupted flow..." he muttered. Whatever was messing with the power was doing it at the source. "I'm going to need to take a look at your generator room. Wherever the issue is, it is up there," he continued.

"Here. There's a service elevator over this way," Dawson said, "we had someone down there before but they never came back. I thought they might be making repairs or found something." Dawson shrugged.

"That's two people you sent somewhere that never came back... isn't that odd?" The Doctor observed. Did people really not notice things like this? It was unbelievable people could be so dull.

"Well, we..." Dawson started.

He never finished his thought. As he spoke, the lights cut off completely, drowning everything in darkness.

"What the hell did you do?" Dawson shouted in the dark.

"I didn't do anything," the Time Lord shouted back. He felt around for the button of his screwdriver and pressed it. The room lit with lime green light. It was dull, but it worked for the time being. He could see the mix of fear and confusion in Dawson's dark eyes.

"This is bad..."the engineer muttered.

"It's not bad," The Doctor smirked, "it's interesting. Very interesting. I love interesting.


	3. Chapter 3: Predators

_(Author's Note: Hi guys. I am finially back with an update. I know it has been awhile, and I am sorry. Things, espicially writing wise have been really difficult. I'm not sure this is any good, I kinda have a love hate relationship with this chapter. In any case, I hope this is relatively enjoyable. Just remember... don't blink ;D)_

"That's so funny! This John of yours seems like a real character! I would love to meet him," Katrina giggled. She clapped her hands and leaned back in her chair. Sarah Jane and she had spent the last few minutes swapping travel stories and, as always, hers involved The Doctor. After years of knowing him, she had more than a few tales to tell.

"Yes, that dog could always outsmart him, I think that's half the reason he gave him to me!" Sarah Jane laughed, referring to her robot pet K9. "I can introduce you to him later today if you like, before we go Gýrothian Flame Dance."

"You're going to that too? I got tickets to that show this morning!" Katrina replied enthusiastically, "we should sit by each other! Imagine how fun that will be!"

"A blast I'm sure," Sarah Jane came back.

She was glad to have met Katrina on this trip. Truthfully, she did not meet people much anymore, not the way she used to at least. It was refreshing to see a new face, especially one so endearingly bubbly. People with her amount of optimism and excitement didn't exist much anymore. It was nice to see.

"I'm so happy I ran into you. Without all my friends, I thought for sure this was going to be a boring trip," the girl said, echoing her thoughts almost exactly, "I have a great idea! Why don't you and I..."

Half way through her sentence, the room was blanketed in complete darkness. It happened so quickly, Sarah Jane gasped in surprise and sat bolt straight. She heard others in the room do the same, and a few scream or call out to their companions. The only light that filtered through was that of the distant sun visible through the window. It was hardly enough to see anything.

"What happened? Oh my god, Sarah, you still there?" Katrina shouted.

"Right here, dear," she replied in as calm a tone as possible, "hold on just a minute, I may be able to help." The woman dug around in her pocket, until she found the familiar lipstick container. Pulling it out she extended it to its full length.

To someone that did not know her, she no doubt would look silly clutching make up in a blackout. This was, however, no ordinary tube of lipstick. Gifted to her by The Doctor years ago, it was a sonic tool like his screwdriver, just better hidden by a mundane object. It had been somewhat outdated until she reunited with her old friend, but one session of interfacing with the Tardis and its software was more than state of the art. She pressed the button on the top.

After emitting a light whine, its tip lit up dark red, a light that extended out around her like a small candle. In the light, she could see Katrina's face leaning in close, looking at her tool.

"Now that's wild," she exclaimed, "I can say I've never seen that before. Where'd you get it?"

"A present from The Doc...er John." She asked, "Are you alright?" The girl nodded.

"My nerves are a tad jangled but I'm fine. I wonder what happened..." she thought out loud, looking up to the ceiling.

A dull clunk tore into the room's silence, and the floor shuddered beneath their feet. Another bang was heard, and the high pitched whine of electronic feedback. Like beams from heaven, a few dull lights clicked on above them, and a couple on the floor. There was just enough to see, but the details in the low light were hard to make out.

"Emergency lighting..." Sarah Jane murmured. More like barely there lighting. Then again some was better than nothing.

"How odd. Usually there is an intercom message that goes with the lights... I wonder what's going on." Katrina said. Sarah Jane did not know either, but something about this felt wrong. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, an instinct that was never mistaken.

She looked around, hoping to spot something to clue her into what happened. This was more than just an outage... she just knew it. There were less people here than before, but that was to be expected. She was sure some of them left as soon as the lights went out. She only counted around eight people still in this room, both families huddled together by the pool. She thought for just a moment she was being paranoid. Running about with The Doctor had a way of doing that to you, and she was the first to admit it.

Until she did see what was wrong with this picture; or more aptly what was missing. Up on the platform by the pool, at the base of the tree, was an empty space, an empty space that had once been filled by a stone statue of a crying angel. It was gone... just disappeared into thin air. Had Katrina not mentioned it before, she may have thought she was mistaken or had finally slipped a gear. She immediately got that cold, wet nervousness in her stomach. This was bad... much worse than a normal blackout. Statues didn't move. Not real ones. She did not know what this was, but she knew The Doctor would. She had to get to him.

"Come on, we're going to get out of here," Sarah Jane stated, standing up hurriedly. Katrina, looking surprised, did the same.

"Wait, where are we going? Wouldn't it be better to stay put? I mean, they always say not to panic in this sort of thing," the girl replied.

"We're not panicking," replied Sarah Jane, "I just think its best we try to find out what's going on, and the best way to do that is to find my friend John." She did not mention the disappearing statue for the precise reason Katrina had highlighted; she did not want her to panic. The bizarre had become a way of life after meeting The Doctor, but to this girl there was little doubt she would freak out. She did not need that right now.

"Come on, let's go and be quick about it," said Sarah Jane. Both women took off into the darkened halls.

* * *

"Interesting? Blimey, you're crazy," Dawson replied to The Doctor. Even in the dark, The Doctor just waved him off. Whether or not he thought he was sane had no effect on him.

The Time Lord's wizened eyes darted about the room that he could not see in. What could shut off the power to a super cruiser like this without being detected? There were only a few things that he could think of. None of them were likely candidates, not here. Ships like this were not normal targets to much of anyone; there was generally no point. They did not carry any valuable cargo and the majority of the patrons paid on via a credit account. Even attempted terrorism was rare.

"Yes Dawson, I am. I am an absolute madman," he admitted with a disengaged shrug, "but I always know what's going on when others don't so how mad am I really?"

"Am I really supposed to answer that?" Dawson countered.

"No," The Doctor replied dryly. A loud clunk echoed from somewhere inside the walls, followed by a light whir. From above sprung a light; it was dim and sporadically flickered on and off but there all the same.

"Emergency lights..." Dawson announced looking up at the ceiling, a perplexed look on his face, "If there were something wrong with the generators those wouldn't come on. Your right... this is interesting."

"Of course I'm right, I'm always right," he said absently, scanning the ceiling with his screwdriver. The readings were normal... how could that be? The emergency lights were flickering, a clear sign of a power malfunction, and the breaker box said there was tampering with the source. Yet the lights said otherwise. That was fishy.

"And humble too," Dawson grumbled.

"Come on," The Doctor urged, "let's go take a look at that generator room, see if we can't find the problem. There is little doubt that it is originating there." Truthfully he wasn't sure anymore but it was the best bet.

Dawson and he exited the cramped room and started down the access halls, heading back towards The Alnitak. The Doctor's pace was brisk; he wanted to discover the truth sooner rather than later.

As he walked however, an eerie feeling came over him. A cold chill like icy fingers ran up his spine. Something squirmed inside him. And he had that dark, brooding feeling like he was being watched. By what, or who he could not say, but it felt as though it was something predatory. Almost like a stalking animal. He was not a man to ignore his instincts. He had learned the hard way many times to go against the gut was always a mistake. The dim lights above him flickered in yet another disturbing power fluctuation. A coincidence perhaps? The Time Lord did not believe in those.

Slowly he started to turn around, his eyes forward, back the way they came.

"What? What is it?" Dawson asked. The Doctor held up one finger, silencing him. He stared down the hall, his eyes catching a shadow in the dark, an outline in the bleak shadows. A human figure stood there. Its head looked tilted down, as though it was looking dejectedly at the floor. At first he was about to call out to them, but he squinted a bit, trying to make out more details.

Just barely he could make out the outline of wings sprouting from its back. His stomach dropped. Only one thing in the universe had that outline. That shape. Only one.

"Don't... move," he whispered to Dawson, keeping his eyes locked on the silhouette.

"What's the matter?" the engineer asked, peeking to look at the figure, "who is that?"

"Shut up and listen to me, or we're both going to die," he commanded. There was a time for niceties. And it was not now. "Get behind me and back away slowly, into the cafe."

"You're insane." Dawson replied, "what the hell is going on? I knew I never should have let you back here!"

"The reason you are still alive is because I'm back here. Just do as I say, I will explain everything when we are safe. Now start stepping back." He heard Dawson move backwards, and he did the same. He kept his gaze on the figure ahead. As long as he kept his eyes on it, it couldn't move. This creature, a monster he had faced many times before, was biologically unable to. They just had to reach the door behind them. They just had to move back, one step at a time.

* * *

Sarah Jane and Katrina rushed through the main entry room, guiding themselves by the light of her sonic lipstick. The fear gripping her stomach had not lifted since the pair left the pool. If anything it was intensifying.

The hall that had been bustling an hour before was dead silent. No one and nothing moved. It was almost as though there was no one else on the ship at all. Every doorway she looked through was empty, and no matter how hard she listened she heard absolutely nothing; not voices nor footsteps nor even a child crying. Phones, bags and other items lay scattered on the floor, just dropped. It was like their owners had just... disappeared.

"Sarah, what happened to everyone? Where are they?" Katrina whispered. Her eyes were huge balls of terror.

"They could be in the shelter, if this ship has one," she lied, trying to calm her. They weren't in the shelter, she could almost guarantee that. No, something else was at work here.

They passed beneath the jewel encrusted swan, a chandelier now darkened by the lack of electricity. Slowly they crept along the same path The Doctor had taken. Still, they neither saw nor heard a soul. How could a ship go from full to empty in just a few minutes? She only hoped she could find The Doctor. That he was still around. He would know what this was, or at least what to do. He always did. If he was anything it was a problem solver.

The pair of women found themselves where The Doctor was meant to be, The Alnitak Cafe. Sarah Jane imagined the neon sign out front had once been quite endearing, with Orion shooting his arrows into a stylized glass. She was momentarily surprised by where she was. Did The Doctor really spend his time here? This didn't necessarily seem like his sort of place. Then again, he was a much different man than the last one she knew so well. She had seen many different versions in fact, so she shouldn't really have been so shocked. This version just had expensive taste, not like the long-scarfed vagabond she flew through time with an eternity ago.

She and Katrina walked through the entrance. The normally moody cafe was nearly pitch black, with only dim lights to illuminate the pair's path. They could barely see the tables and chairs sitting in front of the stage. Some had been knocked over, their contents spilled across the tile floor. Others still had food and personal effects sitting on them, as though the guests had stepped out for only a few seconds. Where had everyone gone?

"Hello? Is anyone here? Doctor?" Sarah Jane shouted.

"You never mentioned John being a Doctor," Katrina whispered.

"More professor than the medical type," she answered. That still was not a lie, not really.

"Is someone out there?" a shaky, feminine voice answered. The red curtain draping the stage shifted, and a figure crawled from under it. She was a dark green Silurian dressed in an elegant blue gown. Her face could be considered quite attractive, but was currently cloaked in fear.

"Oh thank The Goddess, people! It's safe to come out Dirk," she shouted behind her. The curtain shifted again, revealing man this time. He was dressed in an expensive looking business suit, now disheveled. His hair was dark brown, and his face taken up almost completely by thick glasses. Overall, Sarah Jane would describe him as mousy in both demeanor and looks. He seemed twitchy and shivery, as though cold. This was probably fear, although his forward hunched shoulders and ducked head were too practised to be an emotional reaction.

"What happened? Are you alright?" Sarah asked.

"Yes, but everyone is just...gone," the Silurian answered. She stepped down from the stage, her bare, scaly feet slapping the tile.

"What happened exactly? Did you see anything?" She couldn't believe the woman saw nothing at all.

"I heard the screaming back stage, and ran out to see what was going on. When I came here, everyone was gone, except all these horrible winged statues. I found him hiding under a table and we hid back there."

"Statues? I don't see any statues," Katrina murmured.

"They moved... I didn't see them do it but they did. I know they did," The alien defended. It sounded insane but Sarah Jane had heard crazier, and seen twice that.

"What about you," Sarah said, looking to the mousy man, "she said you were out here."

"Mm-me?" he stammered, "I didn't see an-anything. I heard a scream and jumped under the table. I-I didn't open my eyes until she found me." She didn't say so but that was no help.

"Alright, look, I'm looking for my friend. He's an older man, with..." Sarah started.

Her description was interrupted by a loud bang to her left. She whipped her head that direction, finding the metal service door slammed open. A dark skinned man in overalls backed out, followed closely by her old friend, The Doctor. His eyes stared forward, unflinching, his mouth a flat line of seriousness. Still looking in the same place, he reached out with one hand, grabbed the edge of the door and slammed it shut. She watched him run his screwdriver up the edge of the door, locking it. Then turned on his heel, looking around with an almost baffled expression.

"Oh Sarah! Good you're here," he said distractedly, "and... you, whoever you are," he continued, pointing to the girl next to her.

"Katrina," she said, tilting her head, "you must be John."

"You can just call me Doctor... and you two are..." he trailed off, looking at the other pair.

"Ursula," the Silurian replied, "and this is Dirk." The mousy man didn't make a sound, or even eye contact.

"Excellent, Captain Grumpy here is Dawson," The Doctor replied, "anyone else lurking about?"

"How about you stop wasting time and tell us what the hell is going on!" Dawson finally shouted. The Doctor only held up his finger, tapping the sonic screwdriver against the bottom of his chin.

"Hush Dawson, I'm thinking. Sarah, did you see anyone outside? On the main levels?"

"No not a soul. Doctor, what's happening?" she asked. Frustratingly, the old Time Lord just ignored her, absently yammering to himself

"They must have started upstairs... no no that's not right, someone would have seen that before now. The power started fluctuating down below... yes down stairs. Well down, like engine rooms, cargo holds. Control the power control the ship. Knock out the power, make it dark, no one can see. They already have a large number or they wouldn't have taken so many so fast but... they've been feeding all day on stragglers... anyone they could get alone. So well-nourished equals fast equals deadly. These levels are cleaned up but their probably ripping apart the upstairs as we speak. Yes... this all makes perfect sense." Sarah Jane stepped up, and grabbed her old friend by the shoulders, looking him dead in the face.

"Doctor, what is it? Talk to me." she said directly.

"We are in grave danger, Sarah Jane," he replied, snapping out of his state and looking at her, his cold eyes piercing with clarity, "if I am right, and I am sure I am, we are severely outnumbered and utterly outgunned."

"What are you talking about? What is going on," Katrina asked, anxiety creeping into her voice.

"Statues!" he shouted abruptly, "who's seen the statues? The creepy, angel ones who look like they're crying."

"I have," Ursula replied.

"Wait! So did we," Katrina exclaimed, "is something wrong with them? Do they have something to do with all this?"

"Not something, everything," he replied cryptically.

"You people can't actually be considering this can you!?" Dawson hollered, pointing his index finger at The Doctor, "Statues did it all? He's insane."

"Hey, you can't talk to him like that!" Sarah Jane shouted back, "he's probably the smartest person in the room and the only person standing between us and whatever is going on out there!" If there was one person Sarah Jane would defend until the end, it was The Doctor. She looked at him, now staring off into the dining area.

"It's alright Sarah Jane, there's no need to get angry at him. If the poor, ignorant, moron just turned around, he would see that I'm right," he replied. The group glanced first at one and other than turned to look at where The Doctor's eyes were fixed.

Standing at the edge of the dining room was an angelic stone statue, just like the one she had seen at the pool. If possible, it was even creepier up close. Perhaps it was its depressed stance or maybe a side effect of her knowing for sure it was something awful.

"That... wa-wasn't there before," Dirk stammered, his hands fidgeting.

"How could a statue move? This is crazy," Katrina added, her voice filled more than confusion than fear.

"Easy, it's not a statue. Not all the time," The Doctor replied with an angry smirk. "You are standing in front of one of the deadliest predators in the whole universe, The Weeping Angel. They are killers of the highest order, and they feed on anything unfortunate enough to cross its path."

"They eat people?" Katrina asked in disgust.

"Not people. Their energy. One touch makes you disappear, flinging you backwards in time randomly. That's what happened to all the people on this ship. They've been touched and catapulted backwards."

"So it's... time travel. That's not so bad..." Ursula said suspiciously.

"Not on the face, no. But imagine being sent to an uninhabitable planet, or just appearing out in the middle of space. There's no guarantee where you'll end up. Sometimes they just kill, just a snap of the neck," The Doctor said, sharply clapping his hands, "I suppose it depends on its mood. Either way, it feeds on the energy of the life you would have lived... should have lived. That much potential is unbelievably powerful to them."

"If it's so dangerous, why isn't it moving? "Dawson asked skeptically.

"I wondered which of you would pick up on that. It can't, not while you're looking at it. It is one of the most dangerous defense mechanisms ever evolved; when it's being looked at it is a statue. Only when you look away do they move," he continued.

"Why don't we just kill them when we're looking at them," Dawson countered.

"You can't kill an inanimate object, can you? That's what they are when you're looking at them, not even alive. In order to kill something, you have to see it. That will never happen with an Angel. It's only alive when no one is looking," he explained, shaking his head. Sarah Jane's gut squirmed with worry.

"How do we get away from them then?" she asked. If fighting wasn't an option, then running was all they had.

"That's the interesting part. When not being looked at, they move impossibly fast. If you blink you die. So the first defense is to keep watching them."

"We can't do that all the time," Katrina put in.

"That's what they count on. They cover their faces in that weeping formation because they can't risk looking at each other. If they do they'll get stuck like that forever. So if you can get a pair to uncover their faces, something they only do before they attack, you can trap them looking at one and other. This can also be accomplished with reflective surfaces, like mirrors. They'll get trapped looking at themselves."

"How exactly do you know all of this?" Dawson abruptly asked. "You talk like you know all of this for sure."

"I do, I've faced them before, more times than I wish I had," the Time Lord replied.

"And you survived..." Dirk said quietly.

"I did... a lot of others didn't..." he said, squinting angrily at the statue before him. Sarah Jane's head spun. What had gone from a relaxing vacation had just turned into a fight for survival. She momentarily wondered when The Doctor had first run afoul these creatures, because they never had with her. She clenched her fists together, her palms sweating. This was going to be bad... she could feel it. It already was but it would get worse.

"What do we do then?" his companion asked. She already knew before he said anything.

"We need to get back to the Tardis," he replied darkly, "they can feed on its energy indefinitely. The more they feed the stronger they are, and they've already over fed on this ship. If they feed on the Tardis..." he left his thought hanging.

"What's a Tardis," Ursula asked.

"It's my ship. It's on board and I can get you all out of here with it. I'll enplain how on the way but we need to hurry. Remember, don't blink. Now... back up slowly."

Sarah Jane began to back step, her eyes locked on the statue. She couldn't take them off it if she wanted to.


	4. Chapter 4: Trap

Locking the door with his sonic screwdriver behind them, The Doctor and his companions left the cafe behind. He had kept his eyes trained on his angelic opponent for as long as he could before he shut the doors. The doors would not slow them down; they would find another way. But it temporarily cut off one direction of attack. Minimization of threats; that was how one beat the Weeping Angels. The less directions they could surround them from the better.

He glanced in the window, seeing his statue foe was already gone. He clenched his jaw and fists. There were few enemies The Doctor truly hated, but he could count the Weeping Angels among them. They had taken a great deal from him, with no remorse. They were truly no better than the Daleks. Perhaps in their warped minds they considered their time displacing a mercy. There was nothing kind about tearing people from the lives they were meant to live. Stealing their future. No one had that right. His mind drifted to Amy and Rory, and he ground his teeth together. Never again... and not to Sarah Jane. Not today.

"Elevators! Do the lifts work on the emergency power?" he shouted, his Scottish voice echoing in the empty room. The silence bothered him. It was unnatural. Not the normal quiet like after a snowfall or in the middle of space. It was a miasma proclaiming death.

"Yes, they should. We try to keep those up and going no matter what," Dawson replied. He looked around, his eyes darting from place to place. He was obviously paranoid. Good... he would need that.

"Good. The faster the better. Time is of the essence," he started walking, his pace brisk, "Dirk, walk backwards. Keep an eye behind us. If you see one, don't look away or we're all dead."

"Oh-ahh okay," he stammered.

"No pressure," The Doctor said dryly.

They started walking, everyone's head on a swivel. Sarah Jane's comment had indeed been accurate. Every store was empty, with items scattered about, just dropped from being touched. Cellphones, food, bags; all were dropped haphazardly. None of those bothered him... it was the toys that got to him. Stuffed bears and plastic super heroes. Signs of children stolen by cruelty. Separated from their parents in a strange time and world, if they were alive at all. Scared and alone. It made him angry. They would pay.

He couldn't see them, but he could hear them. In the silence everything echoed. Their own footsteps sounded like gunshots on the tile floor. So did the Angel's. The rapid tapping of running, tic tacked around them, darting in the shadows. Stalking.

"They're hunting us..."Ursula growled, bearing her needle teeth.

"They can't attack, not yet. There's too many eyes looking, watching. They like to pick people off. Corner them. This is too open," The Doctor explained.

"But they took out a whole group of people out here in the open. And there were more then," Katrina questioned.

"It was different. They did it during the blackout between shutting off the power and the emergency lights. After that it was just disorganized stragglers. Now they're picking off the survivors. They're gluttonous. They'll want us all. Now, hurry."

They all jogged forward, carefully watching as they did. In the dark it was hard to make out anything. The mind so often played tricks, seeing angelic outlines in the corners and movement where none existed. The dark feeling crept up his back, like eyes boring into him.

They reached the lift he and Sarah Jane had come down on. The floor buttons shown with a dim, flickering light, barely illuminating. The Doctor aimed his sonic screwdriver at the panel. It emitted a strange warbling noise, before the elevator emitted a high pitched "ding."

"You couldn't just press the button?" Dawson grumbled, stepping inside.

"I could, but I'd rather not have the floors we are passing displayed. There is a high enough chance that the Angels will be waiting for us anyway but I would like to avoid it," The Doctor answered, curtly. Dawson was starting to grate on him, but fighting would be counter-productive at the moment. They were already at a disadvantage enough. Everyone but Dirk piled in, cramming together all too tight for anyone's liking.

"The occupants ca-capacity of this lift is, is four people," he worried aloud.

"Would you prefer to stay downstairs with the killer statues?" The Doctor asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes. This was what he had to work with? With an unconvinced look in his beady eyes, Dirk walked in. With a wave of his screwdriver The Doctor shut the doors, and the elevator began to move.

All that was heard were the whirring of belts and gears for the first few seconds; this was broken by Sarah Jane.

"So... when did you run into these? It certainly wasn't when I was with you," she asked genuinely.

"They're a... recent edition to my rouge's gallery. Remember when we met up at the school?" She nodded. "Awhile after that was when I ran into them. I've encountered them a few times since. Every time is like this," he said darkly.

"Like what?"

"A slaughter."

"Well, I have faith we'll make it out alive," Katrina inputted, "from what Sarah has told me, you're amazing. You'll get us out." She sounded as though she was trying to stay optimistic. The Doctor only eyed her, baffled. He couldn't decide if she was an idealist or an idiot. Maybe a combination of the two. He wished he could say with certainty that she, and everyone standing in this elevator would make it out of here alive and well. Yet, when he thought of that fairytale ending, the image of Amy disappearing in front of his eyes came to the forefront. Could he foolishly think all of them would make it just because he wanted them to? If he could make it so just with thoughts alone, he would. There was a cloak of desperation around his thoughts, something he couldn't let cloud them. Were Sarah Jane, his oldest friend, not here, would he feel as such? Perhaps not. It didn't matter.

The lift continued its trek, shooting left, then up again. As they reached within a few floors of their destination, the floor jolted, wobbling the passengers. A pair of clunks followed, making the Time Lord shake his head. As the elevator slowed to a stop, he knew the angels found them. The cheery ding of the elevator accompanied the doors chuffing open.

The hall before them was lined with doors, very similar to the one The Doctor and Sarah Jane had stepped into not long ago. This was not the same however, but three floors down. Standing in front of them were three stone angels, their eyes covered by one hand, the other outstretched.

"Don't take your eyes off them," The Doctor ordered, staring at them. They may have stopped the elevator but he would get passed them.

"What do we do?" Katrina asked, her voice a whisper.

"We split up. If they catch all of us there is no hope. In two small groups our chances are better," he replied.

"You just said downstairs we have strength in numbers," Dawson argued.

"I changed my mind," he replied, "it's too dangerous to all be together, lest we're all eliminated. Sarah?"

"Yes..." she replied slowly.

"Take Dawson and Ursula. This ship is a twin deck formation, meaning each dormitory section is completely separated by one hallway, the elevator hall. Our room is in the center of that hall three floors up, with a stairwell in the corner of each section. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do. I'll take the east side," she replied.

"That's what I've always liked about you, you take initiative," he complimented. Now, if you get to the Tardis before me, get in and fly it home, as quick as you can. Don't wait for me."

"Doctor..." she replied.

"Listen to me Sarah. This isn't the time to be stubborn,"

"Alright," she sighed.

"Good. Remember, they can't move if you're looking at them. Don't let them touch you. If you have to get touched, get touched by the children," he explained.

"Children?" Sarah Jane asked.

"Creepy little cherub things. They can't control their powers as well so you only get sent back a few hours, usually in, relatively, the same place. Mostly. Just... don't get touched. When you're ready, go. Katrina, Dirk and I will buy you time by watching these angles, then we'll start." He didn't like this, not at all, but it was the best of the worst options. Sarah Jane nodded.

"Okay... be careful," she replied. He didn't answer. He wasn't going to lie after all. He was not a careful man. Sarah slipped out first, squeezing passed the statues, followed closely by Dawson and Ursula. She shot him an uncomfortable look, before disappearing to the left.

As their footsteps disappeared into the distance, he still stood and stared. He narrowed his eyes.

"So, still about eh? Still eating the innocent, like the pathetic parasites you are," he started, laughing disingenuously, "that's all you are you know. Parasites. How jealous you must be, to feed on everything that could have been, but never have it for yourselves. Does it make you feel good? To steal from people? Steal their lives? You have stolen enough from me. You won't be getting another life... I'll make sure of it. And if you do I'll make sure you lose more than you gain. You've stolen too much today, hmm?" The statue didn't move of course. It couldn't. "You don't recognize me do you? I'm sure you don't, but you remember me. Remember ever bleak day you were defeated and every time I stopped you. Every one of you destroyed and every time your children starved because of me. Come on now, think hard, you can do it." He leaned in just inches from its covered face. "The Doctor," he whispered menacingly, "you should run, now, and get it over with. You won't have another chance. Now, everybody blink!" He shouted, and shut his eyes. It was a gamble, he knew that, but one he was willing to take. When he opened them again, the statues were gone.

"How did you..." Katrina started.

"It's only a matter of time before they get their guts up and come back, and they'll be angry. Come on, we need to hurry," he replied

* * *

Sarah Jane rushed down the hall, turning at the first intersection in the hall she found. She wanted to put as much space between them and the angels as she could. Even though she knew they could move impossibly fast, every bit counted. Dawson and Ursula followed closely behind, both looking around in paranoia. She felt the same, but managed to stay calm. The Doctor had taught her that; grace under pressure. She was leading other people, she couldn't afford to lose her cool.

Door after door lined each wall. Carts carrying food or laundry sat outside of some, vacant of the workers that once pushed them. She also saw luggage strewn about, popped open from being dropped. It gave her a maudlin feeling, knowing that someone had dropped it as they disappeared. That a lone suitcase was the last remnant of a human life. She had only seen the angels for a short time now, but they were already as abhorrent to her as the rest of The Doctor's enemies.

Carefully they crept up the hall, watching and listening for movement. The ship was as silent as a tomb, and just as grim. This silence was broken however, by a certain engineer.

"This friend of yours, The Doctor. Who is he? He ain't no engineer, so don't even try and feed me that line," he asked, aggressively. She didn't like his tone, but stayed polite. Now was not the time to pick a fight with someone. They all needed each other.

"He's a traveler. A very special traveler," she answered cryptically.

"Right... I figured that out. I ain't that dull. What's he doing here and how does he know so much about these freaks that are hunting us?" Dawson reiterated.

"He... saves people. He fights things, terrible things like these and he saves people. That's why everyone always calls him The Doctor, because he is here to help." To Sarah Jane, that was the best way to explain it without giving away he was a time traveler. Not everyone handled that sort of information well. She only divulged that when it was absolutely necessary.

"Looks like he's a little late," he groused.

"No, he's trying to save us. We're his priority right now. He's only too late if we let the Angels get us," she returned.

"Behind us! There's one behind us," Ursula suddenly cried. Sarah Jane and Dawson spun around. The statue had only just rounded the corner behind them, its weeping form turned toward them.

"Remember, don't take your eyes off it," Sarah whispered," here, back up." She began stepping backwards, her eyes locked on the monster. A loud crash echoed from behind, causing her to turn her head. A door down the hall had broken loose, with a second angel standing in its wake.

"Dammit, we all looked at that one and now the other one is closer!" Dawson hollered. Sarah Jane kicked herself, but still kept her eyes on the second attacker.

"Back up to the nearest door. We can get into one of the rooms, maybe find something to use against them," she said.

"We'll get trapped," Ursula pointed out.

"We're already trapped," Dawson countered, "maybe we can trap them."

"My thoughts exactly." The group tip-toed backwards, each careful to look at their enemies. When her back collided with the door, Sarah finally turned around. She pulled out her sonic lipstick, and pointed it at the keycard reader. Her tool warbled and whizzed, and the keycard reader beeped weakly. With such low power she was lucky it had worked at all.

"Come on!" she shouted, ripping open the door. Ursula was the first to back in, followed closely by Dawson. Sarah moved in behind them, pulling the door closed behind her and turning the lock. Almost instantly the banging started, shaking the door and its frame violently. It wouldn't be long before its stone fists pounded through the wood.

The room before them was a small, single bed room. The bed was a queen size, with silken covers and fluffed pillows, looking like one would sink into it if they laid down on it. Luggage was neatly piled on the floor and in a leather armchair in the corner. A long mirror sat in one corner, while a lamp sat in the other. A single door, presumably leading to the bathroom was to their left, offering no means of escape.

"We're cornered, now what?" Ursula asked, sounding more angry than scared. It was hard to tell with Silurians, their ferocity was legendary.

Sarah Jane's mind raced. How could they trap the Weeping Angels here? What could they use? Her eyes darted around the room.

"They'll get trapped looking at themselves," The Doctor's voice echoed in her head.

"The mirror! Help me move the mirror," she exclaimed. She rushed across the room, Dawson by her side, the pair picking it up. "Move it over there, in front of the door!"

The two shuffled the mirror over, and set it down, angled slightly to the left. The pounding continued, rattling the whole frame. Any second the weak door could give way.

"Okay..." she said to herself, and took a deep breath, placing her hand on the knob, and turned it.

Both angels were there next to each other, horrible faces exposed, mouths twisted into a terrible silent scream. Their hands were outstretched, reaching toward the opening. Their stone eyes were staring into the mirror.

"So... that's it? They're stuck that way?" Ursula hissed. Sarah Jane peeked her head around the mirror frame. Not only were they both looking at themselves, but also each other. The Doctor would probably call that a double whammy.

"I think so. But I have a feeling more will be coming," she replied. The woman squeezed through the gap between the pair of statues, her back rubbing against their stone wings. The feeling sent chills up her spine, and she almost expected to suddenly find herself somewhere else. It was good to know they could touch them, perhaps just not the hands.

Dawson and Ursula squeezed through next, both glancing back one last time at their stone foes. She caught a sneer come across the engineer's face. His disdain was obvious.

A loud bang suddenly erupted in another part of the ship, echoing angrily through the vacant halls.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Dawson shouted, turning to look down the hall.

"I don't know but we should go," Sarah Jane replied. It could have been The Doctor, or something more sinister. She didn't rightly know, but she started to run. Her companions followed. They needed to get to the Tardis either way.

* * *

The Doctor took his time, eyeing the hall. He walked at the head of his small group, leading them onward. He wanted very much to hurry but one had to know when to do so, and this was not that time. Those who hurried did not see things right in front of them. To not see the Weeping Angels was a death sentence.

They had been lucky thus far, having run into no problems down the first hall. All they had to do was make it past the pair of adjoining ones and go up the stairs. His bluff had seemingly bought them time, how much he could not say. Either that or the angels were preoccupied feeding elsewhere. He could not really say. He certainly hoped they weren't preoccupied with Sarah Jane.

His current companions were doing their part as far as he could tell. Katrina watched the sides and Dirk the back, as he was told. He was silent and she talked little. He was fine with that. No distractions.

He watched the dank emergency lights flicker subtly. Others probably hadn't noticed it but he did. Their foes were still feeding on the energy of the ship, what they could. This was on top of the massacre. It was gluttony at its worst. Revolting.

"So... you aren't a normal sort of man, are you John? Should I call you John?" Katrina asked, sideling up next to him. He smirked a bit. Sarah Jane still used his cover name, it was a bit funny to him.

"I'd prefer if you called me Doctor. John is an alias," he replied, dropping all pretense.

"Oh... well alright. So when Sarah told me those tales..." she trailed. He rolled his eyes. Really? Now?

"They were true, and then some. She didn't lie to you, she just knows not to reveal my identity to just anyone. Trust me, it's not personal. Unless you want to take it that way then be my guest," he shrugged.

"Why can't people know who you are?" she asked. He shook his head but answered.

"I have many enemies, dangerous ones. In some corners of the galaxy I am well known. Some I'm loved, others reviled. Sometimes I prefer anonymity. When I do I go by John Smith so people will leave me alone."

"Okay... I think I understand." He involuntarily snorted. No she didn't, not at all. The cheery girl ignored his derision.

"Which brings me back to my original question."

"Good lord," he muttered under his breath.

"You aren't a normal man, are you?"

"Hardly," he said dryly.

"Then... what are you?" She finally asked.

"An idiot in a flying blue box," he replied.

"What? I don't..." she started.

"Shhhhh!" The Doctor hushed sharply. He stopped walking tilting his head down to listen. He could hear them, the footsteps clunking on the carpet rapidly, just down the hall, in one of the rooms. Too close.

"Come on, in here! Quickly!" he whispered, pointing to one of the hotel rooms. Katrina was first to reach it. Finding it unlocked, she opened the door. The Doctor rushed in, followed by the girl. He turned, and motioned to Dirk who stood still in the hall, not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

"Come on! Hurry!" he hissed. The idiot was liable to get them all killed. More clunking steps of stone feet entered the hall and he saw Dirk's head turn, a look of wild eyed terror on his face. He stared forward backing up a few steps before turning the opposite way.

"Dirk! No!" Katrina exclaimed, starting forward. But The Doctor wouldn't let her go out there. He threw one arm in front of her to stop her, and slammed the door shut with his free hand.

A blood curdling scream followed echoing in the empty hall, sharply cut off by sudden silence. The Doctor lowered his head and cringed, his eyes shut.

"Why did you..." Katrina started, but he abruptly clapped his hand over her mouth. Looking down at the crack beneath the door. He could see the dark shadows of feet. They couldn't belong to Dirk, he was certain of that. He pointed to them in explanation, and Katrina's blue eyes grew wide as they fell on them.

Slowly the pair backed up into the darkened room, staying as silent as possible. He could hear the young woman's heart pounding out of her chest, and her breath so shallow it was almost non-existent. The shadows shifted, and moved, before coming back. He pulled his screwdriver from his coat, his finger ghosting the button. It wasn't a weapon by any stretch of the imagination, but it was better than nothing. He could figure something out. The feet finally moved, thunking away rapidly.

In the dark, the two waited for what felt like an eternity, carefully listening for any sort of movement. Finally, The Doctor let go of her mouth, wiping the sweat from his brow. That was close. Too close.

"Why did you do that?!" the young girl demanded.

"You were about to talk and give away where we were! I thought that was obvious," he explained, shooting her a flabbergasted look. Was the sight of feet at the door not enough to illustrate his point? Would he need to explain everything to her?

"Not that, Dirk!" she shook her head, "you killed him!" He snorted derisively.

"The Weeping Angels killed Dirk. No actually, Dirk killed Dirk when he panicked and ran. If he had hid in here with us he would still be alive," the Time lord explained.

"You just left him out there!" she argued.

"There was no way we could have saved him. He was dead the minute he turned around."

"You didn't even try!"

"I didn't need to!" He returned firmly, "do you know what would have happened if one of us went out there? We'd be dead too. It was a trap, designed that way. Besides, he wouldn't have made it anyway, he was too afraid. Fear makes people do stupid things, as evidence by what he did." Perhaps he should have tried. But what if he was touched, and there was no one to make it to the Tardis? The Angels would have a permanent food source. He couldn't afford to get touched for someone else's mistake. Katrina just stared at him.

"Would you say that if it was Sarah out there?" she asked. He narrowed his eyes at her.

"She wouldn't get herself in that position. Which is why she is likely alive and Dirk isn't." She was pushing her luck, more because she had a point than anything. If it had been Sarah Jane, he would have gone out there, no matter what horror lurked beyond. He suddenly felt a pang of guilt for the man's fate, but he pushed it aside. Not now... later, when they weren't being hunted.

"Remind me not to turn my back on you," she said snidely. He sighed.

"Look, just do as I say and you'll survive," was his only reply.

The pair finally turned around, viewing their hiding place. The room was a subtle duel bed room. Though not as large as the one he and Sarah Jane had rented. It was furnished expensively, with hardwood dressers and tables, and two big fluffy beds. The black and white floor tile seemed to glow in the emergency lighting, leaving the room a bit ethereal. Luggage was neatly stacked against a closet door.

It unsettled him... all the emptiness like this. It was all the Angels left in their wake, complete silence.

"This is one of the ways we can use their defense against them," he said, changing the subject back to their survival.

"How so?" she questioned.

"They stop. They can't move it you're looking at them. And when trying to hide, looking at them is the mistake people make. If you had to stop moving every time someone looked at you, you would always know when someone was. If you can catch one unaware, and you avoid looking at it, their own greatest asset can be its undoing," he clarified. Katrina shook her head in disbelief.

"This is all insane," she said.

"You don't beat them through force, you beat them by being smarter... and luckier," he replied, "we should get going. Hopefully they've moved on by now."

The Doctor moved stealthily to the door and poked his head out. He looked in both directions, his keen eyes scanning for any movement in the dim shadows. All that greeted him was emptiness and silence. For a moment he thought he may have seen something... a figure flitting through the dark but soon realized his eyes must be tricking him. He rubbed the bridge of his nose. Not the relaxing vacation he had hoped for.

Abruptly, a deafening boom erupted down the hall, sending one of the doors shooting off the hinges, violently smashing into the opposite wall. Smoke poured from the entry way, filling the hall with its hazy stench. It had a hot sort of smell to it, like that of burnt metal. No Angel did that. He was positive, but they would come to see it.

"What was that?" Katrina asked, trying to push her head through.

"I don't know, but we need to leave. Every Angel on the floor will come to see what that was. Come on." He grabbed the girl's hand, flinching as he did so, and the pair started to run. He let go as soon as he was sure she would follow. He was happy to do so; he was no longer a fan of all that touching humans seemed to like. It was so overrated.

They reached the stair way and he took a look up it, careful to see if their enemy was lurking about at all. He could see nothing, and only the echo of their own breath was audible.

He started up them, jogging at a brisk pace, Katrina at his heels. They passed the first landing than the second, finally coming to the third. He stopped, his eyes catching something odd from the corner of his eye.

At each landing was a box containing a fire extinguisher with a small knob to open the door. Hanging upon the knob by a piece of red string was a key, with a small piece of paper attached. He ogled it a bit half suspicious, half intrigued. He picked it up with his fingertips, almost expecting it to explode for some reason. He looked at the key, then the note.

"To The Doctor, from a friend," it said. The writing was delicately scrawled. He felt as though he had seen it before somewhere, but he couldn't remember who it belonged to.

"What is that a key to? Who left it?" Katrina asked, breaking up his thoughts.

"It's the key to the ship control room..." he muttered, "I don't know who left it... it seems we may have a friend looking out for us." It was incredibly odd. A trap perhaps, or a sign someone else was on their side. Either way this was useful. Much of the time, control rooms in this time period were deadlock sealed, something his screwdriver could not get through. He gently slipped the key into his coat pocket. He didn't have time to ponder this for now. In time, maybe their ally would reveal themselves.

He motioned with his hand for Katrina to come, and climbed the stairs the remainder of the way to his floor. The automatic door was ajar already, jammed open. It struggled to close against a crowbar jammed in the bottom of the door. Again, it was curious.

The hall ahead stretched out toward the magnificent glass windows he and Sarah Jane had passed not so long ago. The swirling suns and planets bathed the hall in an orange ethereal light, tinged an ever so slight green. Shadows danced across the floor, reflecting far off stars competing for their place in the beauty.

The Doctor tensed as he noticed the Angels, waiting for them as he knew they would be. Two of them this time. He relaxed though, as he looked closer. Their arms were outstretched toward each other, their evil eyes looking right into one and other. They were frozen there, forever.

Angels never revealed their faces unless they were going to attack, which meant someone was here before him. Someone who knew what they were and how to fight them. He was even more curious now. Not everyone knew how to trap them like that. Now he really wanted to meet his key leaver.

"Those two are trapped... do you think Sarah is here already?" Katrina asked. Her constant questioning was beginning to bother him.

"I doubt it," he returned, "she would have no reason to come down this hall. Besides, Dawson is probably slowing her down with his portliness. Listen, we're going to my room. If she and the others aren't here we'll wait a half an hour. If they don't show up, or more Angels do, we're going on without them. Don't argue about it."

She didn't. It was good. He had enough going on in his head between Angels, mysterious helpers, horrible deaths, and a quickly formulating plan. He didn't need her to pile on any more


	5. Chapter 5: Archangel

"Oh my Goddess, we can't go this way," Ursula abruptly shouted. The Silurian was half way up the stairs, nearly to the next landing, just ahead of Sarah Jane. Frozen in place, her green frills twitched uncomfortably, her eyes staring up. Sarah Jane did not need three guesses at what she had seen.

"How many?" she called up. The reptile started backing down the stairs, her gaze not moving.

"Three..." she swallowed hard. Her clawed hands shook.

"Here, come on this way," Dawson said, pointing to the door of the floor below, "I've got an idea." She nodded, continuing to back up, coming down to the landing. She hurried down the rest of the way, unable to see the Weeping Angels anymore, coming to a stop next to The Doctor's friend.

In a literal blink of an eye, the statues were there, standing on the steps above. The lead had its face exposed, it's arms outstretched. Its wretched mouth was contorted into an angry scream, but something in its stone eyes spoke of more. Perhaps it was her imagination, but its rocky eyes almost looked gleeful. It was enjoying this, not just simply hunting like an animal. Something far more evil lurked there, more than something killing for food. It did it for pleasure. Something squirmed inside her, making her want to look away. That was likely the idea. Behind it, another pair stood, these with their faces covered. She back stepped, with Ursula next to her. Neither wanted to stop looking at their assailants, lest they get touched.

The automatic door shuffed closed in front of them, cutting off their view. They did not have the time to waste. The trio turned and ran, following the bulky engineer down the hall. They only had to make it up one floor. They were so close...

She heard the door reopen behind them and spun around. There they were again, the same Angels, relentless. She continued to look at them, freezing them in place as she backed up. She felt Ursula's reptilian hand on her shoulder, guiding her back.

Dawson finally stopped, opening up the metal door in front of him. A maintenance door as far as Sarah Jane could tell, though she dare not look.

"Here, in here," he ordered, and Ursula pulled her through. Dawson followed, slamming the door behind them. Her eyes burning, Sarah Jane finally blinked, wiping away the tears. It was only getting harder to avoid them.

In the dim, cramped hall, Dawson pushed past, grabbing a long piece of piping leaning against the wall. He violently rammed it through the door handle, jamming it closed, before wiping his brow with his sleeve.

"That was a close one, eh?" he laughed uncomfortably, then sighed deeply. She could see the stress in his face, barely showing through his hard exterior. Sarah Jane turned to Ursula and nodded in thanks. The singer smiled, doing the same.

"Where does this go?" Ursula asked Dawson.

"It's a maintenance corridor, so there's a starwell here leading up to the next floor. That's where we're trying to get to, isn't it?" Sarah Jane nodded.

"Yes, and we should be quick about it," she said. She hoped The Doctor had not been diverted as she had. Hopefully he had taken the Tardis out of here, and whatever the next stage of his plan was, was in full swing. If he had a plan; she knew him and much of the time he flew by night. She certainly hoped he did, they needed one for all of this.

The survivors moved up the sterile metal corridor. The glitz and glamour of the vessel was gone here, leaving cold metal walls and grinding machinery in its place. The noise was loud even now, and Sarah Jane wondered how it would sound if the ship were at full power. The dark, flickering lights kept her on edge. She felt as though any moment stone hands would reach out from the darkness, trying to steal them away. She glanced behind them, just to be sure no vampiric statues managed to get through. They could get cornered here in the claustrophobic hall simply. Only a few statues at their front and back would be enough to trap them. Sarah Jane decided to stop thinking about that as a chill raced down her spine. It wasn't helping anything, and just made her even more jittery.

They rounded the next corner, continuing to follow Dawson as he stalked through the corridors. She could tell by his fevered pace that even through his gruff gusto he was scared. He had every right to be by all accounts.

They rounded the next corner, coming to a stop. Long metal bars blocked the way to the stairs, halting their progress. They extended down from floor to ceiling, blocking any hope of crawling under or climbing over.

"Damn it," Dawson growled, grabbing them with his hands shaking them to no avail, "someone must have triggered the panic bars. Dorly was workin' this side. Probably saw what was going down through the cameras. Tried to protect herself."

"Great, what do we do now?" Ursula asked. She sounded half afraid, half frustrated. Dawson didn't answer right away, mulling it over.

"Her station is only a couple halls away. I can make it there and disable the bars. They should still be on with the emergency generators," he replied.

"Okay then, let's go," Sarah Jane said. She was more than willing. He shook his head.

"No, you two are staying here," he said firmly.

"You can't go alone, they'll kill you. It's suicide." she countered. She had heard of stubborn but this was just stupid.

"Someone needs to stay here and make sure we can get out this way. Make sure they don't cut off our escape."

"I'll stay, you and Sarah Jane go," Ursula said.

"We need her. She knows how to fly the ship. It's too dangerous for her to go," the engineer said.

"Then I'll..." Sarah Jane started.

"No. Then you're alone and if you get touched, we're done," he interrupted, "me going is the only option, I'm telling you!" Sarah Jane didn't like this, not at all but he had a point. They did need her in case the impossible happened, and The Doctor fell. She could pilot the Tardis, if she had to. No one else here could.

"Alright," she conceded, "but hurry and be careful."

"It's right around the corner. If I'm not back in ten minutes, get out of here." She nodded. Dawson charged down the hall, rounding the corner and disappearing from sight.

Sarah Jane and Ursula stood in cold silence. She didn't like this one bit. Waiting around while someone else did the work. She was always the first through the door, not someone else.

"Do you think he's going to come back?" Ursula asked, breaking the silence.

"Yes... I do," she replied. Truthfully, she was only hoping. With such horrible opponents, doubt clouded her. If Dawson didn't come through, they would have to go back the way they came, through the Angels. Not a promising prospect. They could only hope they had moved on by now, seeking another prey. She hoped it wouldn't be The Doctor, although he had fought them many times, so perhaps he was the best choice. He knew how to defeat them, and he was obviously good at it. As though reading her mind, Ursula spoke up.

"This Doctor... do you trust him?" She questioned.

"Yes, implicitly. I have never trusted anyone more in my life." That was the unabashed truth. Despite his propensity for running off in his time machine and leaving his friends behind, he always stayed in a crisis. He would stay until the bitter end, even if it killed him.

Abruptly, a loud grinding started behind them. The two girls watched as the bars slowly began their retreat into the ceiling, eventually disappearing completely. Her heart sped with joy. Something was finally going their way. It was about time. The pair turned. Dawson would be coming back soon, hopefully.

They both waited. Sarah Jane realized she was nervously holding her breath in anticipation and exhaled. The old Doctor she once travelled with would have scolded her for that, and the thought of his gentle, mentor like prodding made her smile.

They heard him before they saw him, his footfalls pounding on the metal floor. From around the corner, Dawson finally appeared, his dark skin covered in sweat. Sarah Jane noticed a bloody scratch raked down his forearm, momentarily wondering how he got it. It looked almost like the claws of a wild animal...

"Come on, let's go," he said breathlessly, "I trapped one in the room back there but it'll get out soon." Neither Sarah Jane nor Ursula needed to be told twice. They took off behind Dawson, tearing up the hall. They rounded another corner, coming to a set of steep metal steps.

They tore up them, rushing down the next set of halls. Dawson stopped at another access door, ripping it open. The two women followed him out.

Sarah Jane recognized this place. It was the hall she and The Doctor had first walked into when they arrived here. Orange light bathed this place, the light of swirling nebulas and spinning suns. It felt so different now however, the tint feeling sinister in the wake of so much suffering. The Weeping Angels had tainted everything the Black Inertia was, and stolen what it could be. As she gazed out the window, for a moment she wondered what other people around those stars were doing. Living normally probably, not trapped in a vacation turned hellscape. They weren't worried about moving statues or survival beneath the weight of overwhelming odds.

Then again, when had her life been different? By choosing to travel with The Doctor, she had chosen not only adventure and amazement but also chaos and in some cases, horror. He was a magnet for it. It meant those he traveled with ended up in the crossfire. To travel with him was to accept that. She knew what she signed up for so she had no right to complain.

They moved into the hall, and Sarah Jane immediately noticed the Weeping Angel there in. However she also noticed it was already trapped, staring out the window; or rather into it.

"It's stuck on its own reflection in the glass... that's brilliant," she murmured. There was only one man with enough skill to set that sort of trap.

Her eyes caught sight of another down the hall, this one too seemingly trapped. They walked forward and she could see a small simple hand mirror, taped to the wall with electrical tape, eye level. The winged monster stared into it angrily. It knew it was trapped, and it radiated hatred.

"I think your friend has been by," Ursula commented. Sarah Jane nodded.

"Yes let's go find him, shall we?"

Up the hall they went, with Sarah Jane retracing her steps, finding her room easily. The card reader read that it was unlocked, and she rested her hand on the knob. Praying her old friend was inside, she opened it.

The room was just as she left it, albeit darker without the chandelier sparkling from the ceiling. Much to her relief, the Tardis still sat in the center, with the lights inside on. She was happy to see it. Perhaps others may not understand her love for a blue police box but that was fine by her. They would soon.

The Doctor was here as well, along with Katrina. It seemed he had been pacing while she sat on the edge of the bed, twiddling her thumbs nervously. Dirk was nowhere in sight. The Time Lord's head turned as she entered, and a wild grin came to his face.

"Sarah! You're here! You made it!" he exclaimed, jaunting over to the door. He reached forward with his arms, then stopped short with an awkward look, then backed up a bit. "Hugs? No hug?" She just smirked.

"Not if you don't want to," she replied.

"That's my girl. Alright so," he started, looking around, "hello Dawson, good to see you again and... you…" he said, pointing at the Silurian.

"Ursula," she reminded.

"Right, Ursula. Good. Excellent. Everyone is here. Nice job not losing anyone Ms. Smith," he complimented.

"Hey. Where's..." the engineer started.

"Dirk is gone. Don't interrupt people Dawson. It's rude," The Doctor said, cutting him off, "now, come on. We're getting out of here, but first we have a few things to do."

"Like what?" Dawson asked.

"This ship. Its course is automated. Is it not? It has a Capitan but that's more for show and emergencies, right? He more or less programs the courses?" The Doctor asked. Dawson nodded.

"Yes, for the most part. It's almost always on autopilot," he answered.

"That's what I thought. That's why the Weeping Angels chose this ship. It's their perfect feeding ground. In an enclosed space, they can hunt indefinitely. The people here couldn't leave because we're in the middle of space. They have captive food, so they can gorge themselves. The more they feed the stronger they are. Then this will transport them somewhere else."

"I think I see where this is going," Sarah Jane murmured, a sick feeling growing in her stomach.

"Supercharged by their feeding frenzy, they can rip through wherever they land, and keep right on feeding, potentially tearing away thousands of lives before they've finished." A grim silence fell over the crew. After about a minute, Katrina broke it.

"What do we do then?" she asked.

"We need to destroy the ship. Reprogram it to fly into a sun, and take the Angels with it."

"No, no! I'm not doing that! That's completely insane!" Dawson shouted.

"Do you have another idea? Because I would love to hear it!" He shouted back, his frustration boiling over, "there is no other option! None! I can't unleash this hell on more people! People who didn't do anything but make the mistake of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Absolutely not!"

"Oh my God..." Katrina gasped.

"The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few..." Ursula whispered.

"Exactly. I don't want to do this anymore than the rest of you, but that's what I am doing. I can get us to the control room with the Tardis," he said motioning to the blue police box, "It's as simple as reprogramming the ship and then leaving. I can then drop you wherever you like, no harm, no foul."

"Do you have no conscience?" Katrina suddenly asked, "Do you realize what you're doing? You're talking about blowing up a ship!"

"A ship full of predators. Serial murderers. They deserve as much mercy as they give others, and that's what I'm going to give them," he replied.

"What if there are people still alive? Like us. So they get to die?" she asked.

"I'm far more comfortable sacrificing these hypothetical people than real people on a real world that will die if we don't stop this now," he growled, "you don't have to agree but you will not stop me."

"You can't agree with this, can you Sarah?" the girl asked. All eyes fell to Sarah Jane.

"I do," she said confidently, "they can't be allowed to feed any more than they have. I've seen a lot of terrible things, and made decisions like this before. It's never easy but making the wrong choice and having more people die is always harder." She always backed The Doctor in situations like this. He was right, this could not be allowed to continue.

"This is enough discussion. We're leaving. Everyone get in," he said, pulling the Tardis door open, "and yes you'll all fit. It's bigger on the inside. Let's get that out of the way early shall we?"

One by one they walked through the door and into the ship. As always, the Tardis was a second home to Sarah Jane. A large round space, its main control room was filled with a cool blue light. The time router tubes reaching up to the ceiling added a bit of yellow, giving the cold a warmer touch. The control console was an octagon shape, with all sorts of levers and buttons for flying. A movable screen on a separate lever dangled above the controls, something she had seen The Doctor use often.

Sarah Jane closed the door behind everyone as the newcomers looked around. A mixture of awe and disbelief was etched onto their faces. Everyone felt that way when first in the Tardis. The Doctor headed down the steps to the console, with Sarah Jane right behind him. His hands were a blur of lever movement and button pushing. He pulled his screen over, glancing at the code running across it. With another pull, the room shook and the grinding began, as the Tardis started it's take off.

"Alright, in a few moments, we'll," The Doctor started, but the Tardis' grinding stopped. With a jolt it errupted again, this time sounding sickly and off key. With a thunk they landed, and The Doctor stared at the screen, flabbergasted.

"Doctor, what's wrong," Sarah asked.

"It won't move through the ship. It's because of the Angels," he answered.

"They broke your ship?" Dawson asked.

"No, no. To them, the Tardis is a big blue lunch box. It knows that and it's not going to move through it and risk getting drained. It will leave if we just go, but not if we try and land on the ship."

"But we can still leave?" Katrina asked.

"Yes, but there is no guarantee I can get back and reprogram the ship. I can't take that chance, we need to stop this before it gets worse," he continued to fiddle with the buttons.

"What are you saying?" Dawson asked.

"I'm sending the Tardis away, into orbit so the Angels can't feed on it. We're going to get to the controls on foot and crash this ship into the sun," he said bluntly.

"Doctor..." Sarah Jane breathed, "Are you saying this is a suicide mission?"

He looked at her, and she thought she saw a glimmer of water in his eyes, but it receded quickly. He put his aged hand up, touching her cheek. She grasped it, and smiled a bit.

"Yes. I'm afraid it is. I'm so sorry, Sarah," he said. She shook her head.

"Don't be," she replied, "I'm with you to the end."

"Sarah..." he trailed.

"Are you saying you're trapping us here? You can't do that!" Katrina shouted.

He took his hand from Sarah, looking at the other girl. She could see the anger well up inside him.

"Do you think this is what I want?! I have no choice!" he yelled, slamming his fist violently into the console, "I don't want to trap you here! I don't want to watch you die, watch grumpy die, watch starlet die, watch Sarah die! Does that sound like what I want? No one wants that! No one with any shred of goodness in them!" His voice rang out. Silence fell heavily.

"The needs of the many... I'm with you," Ursula quietly said.

"So am I. I hated this God damn ship anyway." Dawson said.

"Well, it looks like we don't have a choice do we?" Katrina pouted.

"It's settled then," The Doctor growled, his jaw set and his eyes fierce, "let's kill some Angels."

* * *

Deep in the dark, it lurked. Like lightning, it struck, then it was gone. To those that saw it, it appeared like every other of its kind, an angel with demon heart, but those of feeble mind and body were wrong. Never did they have the time to see the crown of thorns atop her head. Never did they see her for what she was.

Her claws now dripped with the blood of a human. Her stone face smiled in the black. Its drives were primordial. Simple, deadly. Hunt, feed, procreate. Repeat. She had hunted, fed to contentment. Now she had started the process of procreation. No mortal stood in her way. Nothing could stop her and she knew it. The cycle would begin again. Hunt, feed, procreate. Hunt, feed procreate


	6. Chapter 6: A Walk in the Stars

_(Author's Note: I would like to take a moment to answer a few questions you guys have asked of me. A few have been asked multiple times, so I figured this was the best way._

 _1\. I will not be doing sonic sunglasses. I am not a fan of them. I don't hate them as much as most people do but I don't exactly like them. Not flashy enough._

 _2\. I am well aware I have had a character utter the phrase, The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few two storys in a row. It is intentionally done, and will be a running theme in this series. Good catch feline38._

 _3\. I have gotten an overwhelming number of requests for a fic with Vastra, Strax and Jenny. That will happen. Be patient my prettys. All in good time._

 _4\. Missy. I regret to inform you we will have no Missy. That is not to say we will not see an incarceration of the Master however._

 _5\. Rose, Jack, Martha ect. Generally I am not ruleing out any appearance of any previous companions unless they are dead. What would the fun be in that?_

 _6\. Boneless. One of you out there really wants me to do the Boneless. I'm considering it. Thats not a yes, or a no. Its a maybe._

 _Ok, whew. Now that that is out of the way, here's chapter 6. Enjoy my thirsty little Whovians. Drink up.)_

Rage pulsed through The Doctor's body as he watched his Tardis fade away, slowly winking out of existence until no trace of it remained. The fury of a Time Lord. Unbridled, unending, unstoppable.

They had done it again. The Weeping Angels had robbed him one more time. This time they were seeking to steal his future. To kill his oldest friend. His fists clenched. Perhaps they would succeed, but it would be at a cost. He would take them with him.

He looked at Sarah Jane, fumbling around with her sonic lipstick. Guilt wracked him. After all this time, after all he did to try and stop it, he would cause the death of Sarah Jane. It was because he was selfish. He cajoled her into going with him, running off again. If he hadn't she would be content to sit at home, and be boring. Be alive.

His eyes came to Dawson next. The engineer was absently gripping a wound on his arm, grimacing. He had wrapped it haphazardly with the sleeve off his other arm, but he could see the blood trickling out.

"How did you get that?" The Doctor asked, giving him a side long glance.

"It's just a scratch, I'm fine. Besides I'll be dead in a few hours, so what does it matter?" He replied caustically.

"Here let me see it, scan it, make sure it isn't infected," he held up his sonic screwdriver, walking forward.

"No way, I'm not going to let you probe me. You! Don't touch me!" he shouted abruptly. The Doctor backed off. That wasn't suspicious at all... what could he possibly be hiding about a scratch?

Everyone looked at the engineer, sweat forming on his brow. He was incredibly agitated, quite suddenly, even for him.

"What is everyone looking at me for? Stop staring!" he shouted. He wasn't making a case for himself. The Doctor let it go for now, not wanting to push this further. They did not have the time. Not right now.

"Anyway, I have a plan. Here put these on," he held up a stack of five metal chokers. He handed them to Sarah Jane, who began handing them out. He kept one for himself, and put it on.

"What are these?" Ursula asked, holding it up.

"A bit of technology I picked up in my last shopping spree. They'll allow you to breathe in the vaccume of space, and anchor you with some gravitational force. So you don't float away," he answerd simply.

"That's not possible, no one has anything like that," Katrina argued. The Doctor groaned.

"Such a detractor. You're right, they don't. Not yet. But statues didn't move a few hours ago, so things change. Just put it on, and press the button on the side." He did so as a demonstration. A sharp pain poked into the sides of his neck. He felt the needles contained inside probe into his neck, resting there in.

"You'll feel some pain, but it's just the device connecting to your nervous system," he explained, "it's nothing to worry about. I prefer normal suits, but we're pressed for time so..."

The rest of the group did the same as he did, turning on their chokers.

"Who here has walked in space before?" Sarah Jane started putting up her hand. He smiled. "Other than you, Sarah."

"I did, once or twice. I didn't much like it," Dawson spoke up.

"Why exactly are we doing this? It's seems dangerous," Katrina worried.

"The ship is crawling with Angels. This is a shortcut," he replied, "or maybe a long-cut, I really don't know... or care. As long we avoid getting killed before we reach the control room, I don't care."

"I'm not sure I can do this," she whined.

"It's alright... no experience, no problem! Time to learn on the job boys, and girls. Come on, have no fear, The Doctor is here" He clapped his hands together, and led the group outside the room, back into the hall. He looked in both directions, making sure no Angels were waiting for them. Only those previously trapped were there, staring at themselves.

"You didn't happen to do that, did you?" he quietly asked, pointing to the pair of Angels stairing at one another.

"No, I thought it was you," she replied.

"That's what I suspected. Someone here is helping us, someone in the shadows. Look at this," he pulled the key he found from his pocket, showing it to her.

"A key? For what?" She asked.

"The ship control room. It's the only manual lock on the ship, so no one can hack it. Someone left it for me," he replied. She furrowed her brow.

"Who could it be?"

"I don't know. I don't want to make any assumptions, or guesses. Could be almost anyone, or anything. I have a lot of friends in low places. And enemies." There really were far to many to guess. He didn't have enough information. Not yet. "Alright, everyone has their collars on, yes? And turned on? Check, because if they're not I'll be covered in your eyes. I don't like being covered in eyes... it's sticky." Everyone did at The Doctor requested. One by one they nodded, or gave a thumbs up.

He turned to the massive window, putting his hand against it. The same colorful planets greeted him. Infinite space stretched out in front of him, stars winking, beckoning to him. Should he have made a different choice? Taken himself, Sarah Jane, and the rest, and just run away? His conscience of would recover some day... perhaps. It was the perhaps that stopped him. He had enough guilt. He would garner more, of that he was positive. Unleashing hell on another world out of selfishness, and a desire for self preservation was not something he was comfortable with. He didn't stand idol, not any more. Those days were centuries in his past.

"Sarah, stand on that side." he motioned to the opposite side of the window, "Sonic up. Setting pi alpha-two." She nodded in return, doing as instructed. "We're going for a rectangle here, I have faith in your obsessive compulsive abilities."

"Look who's talking," she smirked back.

His screwdriver warbeled and whirred as he started at the windows base, moving up slowly. Sarah Jane did the same with her lipstick. He lifted it above his head, and started walking toward Sarah Jane. She did the same, and soon they met in the center. As both tools met, he put his foot aginst the glass, and pushed.

He felt the massive pull, as the glass fell away, the wind like vaccuum ripping through the room, sucking away the air. Artificial air filled his lungs, and a strage dizzy pressure filled his head, his ears popping. This countered the effects of being exposed to the vaccume. He felt it pull him forward, his coat a mess around him, and his feet sliding along the carpet untill the choker acivated, anchoring him to the floor. He watched the glass slowly float backwords, gently sailing into the unknown. Barely audible, he heard the buzzer of this section of the ship locking down to prevent all the air from being sucked out. He and Sarah both backed away, and he took a deep breath.

He looked to Sarah Jane, who looked back, giving him a nervous smile. He held out his hand, motioning for her to take it. She did so, gripping it tightly. She motioned to the rest to take hers. Ursula was first, with Katrina taking her hand. Dawson was last, gripping her's with his uninjured hand, nodding to The Doctor.

His first few steps were clumsy, the lack of air fighting ,with the gravity producing collar. His leg went far into the air then stomped back down. He was sure of how foolish he looked, though by the time he reached the gap, he was able to take long strides relatively normally. As he looked over the edge of the window, he let go of Sarah's hand, and put his foot on the outer wall. He lifted the other up and stretched out his arms, letting the collar do the rest.  
He was pulled downward, into a standing position. He caught himself before momentum sent him floating forward. He didn't need to see space that badly. He stepped up a bit then turned, and motioned to Sarah Jane to come next. With a worried look she bravely planted her foot on the outside wall. He always admired that about her; she was always so courageous, even when terrified.

She to was yanked outward, into a standing position. Her arms flailed as she nearly lost her balance, and he grabnbed her hand steadying her. Both feet stomped down. With a surprised look she balenced herself. He smiled a bit, noticing her dark hair floating around her in a mess. She gave him a questioning look, and he motioned to it with his finger. Realization came to her, and she screwed up her face, shooting him a glare, then making a fist at him. He only smiled more.

The rest of their group stepped outside in the same clumsy way Sarah Jane had. Again they all held hands. He didn't need anyone floating away. If anyone it would probably be Dawson... he didn't seem like the anti-gravity type.

They started their trek down the ship. The whole bow of the Black Inertia stretched out before them. As he looked down at it, The Doctor almost felt dizzy. He was not used to seeing ships at a directly downward angle. Was it downward? There were no directions out in space.

It disturbed him however, looking at it. When he and Sarah Jane had arrived, it had been alight. It had reminded him almost of a city at night, twinkling on the horizon. Now it fit it's name much more; black. Without the yellow emergency lights outlining the whole of the ship, he would scarcely be able to see it. He supposed it did not matter, as he would be destroying it soon, but did that mean he should forget hat it had once looked like? What a marvel it had once been? It was a shame it would be gone. Why did all of the things like the Black Inertia, things that brought joy, end up destroyed? All this death was senseless and selfish.

They took their time, careful not to over step. Even if they did, they all had each other to keep themselves anchored. They passed by a multitude of windows, some peering into halls, others, rooms. He dare not look into any of them. He did not want to see what was inside, how empty it was, or risk letting the Angels know what they were up to. Not that they would not figure it out. They were smarter than people gave them credit for. As they reached the "bottom" they all navigated another step down.

Atop the bow, he almost felt like he could breathe again. They were half way to where he was leading them. As he stood there, he could not help but admire the view. The beautiful galaxies and startling planets were even more breathtaking than from the windows. From here he could see the shining rings glinting in more detail, the stardust floating in clouds of grandure, and the stars just waiting to be explored for the first time. Sights like these were what lured him away from Gallifrey all those years ago. Every time he believed he had become immune to the pull of such perfection, the universe seemed to slap him in the face with more, just to prove he wasn't. He decided he should be happy about that, that he hadn't become cold to such things in his old age as many of the Time Lords did. Perhaps it was because he had chosen the life of a wanderer, unlike his people. Or maybe it was his mischief, and meddling, something they actively avoided. Maybe it was because he feared this would be the last time, and he wanted to savor it. What a fitting last meal it would be, staring off into the place he spent most his time. It was a feast for the eyes after all.

Once he had his fill, he started up toward the front. They hugged the edge of the ship, carful not to step off. All that lit their path were the emergency lights, slicing rays of yellow through the black. As they reached the half way point, The Doctor stopped. This was right about where he wanted to be. His sense of direction was nearly impeccable on most days. He motioned for another step down, this time on the ships port side.

This side-step went far smoother than the last, each of them letting their chokers do most of the work for them. None of them flailed this time, just stepping and being pulled by force. Again they gripped one another in solidarity. No emergency lighting guided them here, but the orange light of the distant sun, was enough to see his target. The cargo bay doors.

They used it to load containers full of supplies into the ship, and it was how he planned to break in past their enemies. It was better to avoid them for the time being. He pointed to the doors, and looked at Sarah Jane. She gave him that same look she had given him for the last few centuries; that raised brow, "you've got to be kidding me you crazy person," look. Or maybe it was the "brilliant idea Doctor, good job!" He could never tell anymore. He decided to go with the second.

They approached the massive door, and positioned themselves at the door's bottom. He wanted to be on the floor when they entered, so that when the gravity turned back on inside, they wouldn't fall to their deaths. He had fallen to his death before. It wasn't one of his happy-funtime experiences. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He was careful not to let go of it, not wanting it to float off. Then he would have to use Sarah Jane's. It's difficult to look intimidating, and dashing with a tube of lipstick. He ran his tool across the bottom of the door, sure to have it on the correct setting.

It shuddered and shook a bit, then started to slide open. As it did, he peeked in. It was a typical cargo hold on a ship this size. Giant metal crates were stacked inside, each likely containing some supply the ship needed. It looked relatively dark inside. He was hardly suprised, emergency lights weren't as reliable in bowels of ships like this. Cargo holds were the last of people's worries. Overall it looked clear however, a good sign. They just may have circumvented the Weeping Angels after all.

He stepped up through the door, grabbing Sarah Jane's hand, pulling her up. They did the same with Ursula, Katrina, and Dawson. They walked into the hold carefully, and The Doctor spun about. He pointed his screwdriver at the door, and remotly closed it.

"Decompression beginning," a low robotic voice said. He guessed it would have been louder if the power were not out, but a vibrating rasp was all it could produce.

A horrendous wind followed, blowing hard aginst The Doctor's face and body. He shut his eyes, and shielded himself with his hands. It was the air returning to the room via the ships counter balance system. That was fine by him. He never much liked anti-gravity. As furiously and abruptly as it started kt stopped, leaving them in a calm, quiet room.

"You can turn off you collars now, we're back in the funzone," he said, switching his off.

"Guess we can talk again too," Dawson muttered.

"Only if you promise not to be annoying, , now we can get to..." she stopped as he heard footfalls thrumming in the distance. "We're not alone in here. We need to go. Ohhhhh I'm and idiot!" he growled.

"Why? What's wrong?" Katrina asked, fear evident in her young face.

"This is where they came in, through the cargo hold. I've taken us right into their home. Where they keep their..." a light giggle echoed throughout the room, sending a chill down his neck, "children."

"We need to go now!" Sarah Jane shouted.

"Run!" he agreed. Both time travellers turned the on the lights on their screwdrivers, extending an umbrella of red and green glow around them. The better to see their enemies with, or so he hoped.

The Time Lord took off, running full tilt up the cargo bay. Sarah Jane was right behind him, Dawson even with her and the two girls lagging behind. More childish laughter echoed in the room, somewhere to their left. He ducked right, passing between a pair of containers.

"Their behind us, I can hear them!" Katrina shouted in panic.

"Their slower then the parents, we can outrun these. This is more about not getting cornered. They will try but they're young, and stupid," said The Doctor. If they were in a room full of adults, they would all be dead already.

They turned at the edge of the container. He could hear the light pitter patter of their feet on the metal floor, this time coming at their left. They were closing in, he could feel it. Even so young, they were predators of the worst kind.

He held his screwdriver out ahead of him, to better see where he was going. He stopped in his tracks. Up ahead, three cherub statues stood together. Plump things with tiny wings, they covered their eyes with one hand, almost in a playful mannor.

"Their smaller but nearly as deadly, come on! This way!" The Doctor yelled in a commanding voice. It was probably his accent more than anything, but if it helped these people survive he didn't care. He turned right, dodging in between another pair of containers. They just had to out maneuver them. As they came out the other side, he spotted two more from the corner of his eye, these standing on the fringe of his screwdriver's light. They were attempting to hide like the parents did. They were poor at it.

He lead them off to the left. If his calculations where right, the door leading out of the cargo hold should be right ahead. They just had to make it there. He spotted another pair of children closing in from the right, and a single one from the left. He wasn't going to be surrounded, not now. He held his sonic scredriver ahead of him, and pushed himself to run faster. He could hear Sarah Jane huffing behind him. He needed to make It there soon, before she ran out of steam.

Finally in the cone of his light, he could see the automatic doors sitting before him, closed. He fiddled with his screwdriver's settings for a second, and pressed the button. With a whine the green tip blinked a few times, and the door ahead slid open. The group charged ahead, passed another trio of cherubs awaiting them near the door. As the last of their group exited the hold, The Doctor hit the door with his sonic tool again, shutting it in the face of the hungry children. Almost instantly he heard light tapping against the door, then a sorrowful crying like that of an upset toddler. It would be heartbreaking, if it didn't belong to a monster.

He bent over, his muscles burning, taking labored breaths. It was quite the work out, running from Weeping Angels. Next to him, Sarah Jane did the same, moving her messy hair out of her face.

"I'm way to old for this," she smiled tiredly.

"So am I," he said back. He didn't know what she was complaining about, he was over two thousand by now.

"'Least you get a new body at the end of this," she countered gently.

"It's not the blessing it's made out to be, believe me." The pair switched off their lights.

"Alright," Dawson puffed, "where are we going?"

"Up the stairs here," The Doctor pointed. After their breif rest, they walked that way, starting up the steps. All that greeted them thus far was a glass box with a fire axe inside, even though The Doctor expected to find an army of Weeping Angels at the landing. They turned the corner. His fear was realized.

One stood right at the top, it's face exposed, clawed hands outstretched. The angry glare in it's eyes told him it was probably the brood mother of the children downstairs. She wasn't happy he had let them starve.

"Keep watch on it," The Time Lord ordered, "We need to get passed this one, get down that righthand hall without it following us."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Ursula worried.

"I'm open to suggestions."

"Move," Dawson shouted, shoving passed him. The burly engineer held the fire axe from the box behind them in his hands, stalking toward the monster. "You said we can't kill them like this right? Maybe we can slow it down." He stood back and took a mighty swing.

With a loud clunk it's stone head flew from it's shoulders, smashing against the wall and rolling down the stairs. The Doctor blinked, shocked. No one had ever done that before. Truthfully, he didn't think Dawson had that amout of strength to do that to an Angel. Even bullets had a hard time knocking them apart. The only way he knew od to kill a Weeping Angel was complete annihilation such as blowing them to pieces, or incinerating them until nothing remained. He didn't know if what Dawson did would slow it down, or even possibly kill it. Either way, it impressed him.

"Come on, let's go! Good show Dawson," he complemented. As they moved up the stairs, Dawson put his foot in the creature's back shoving hard. It tumbled forward, flopping down the staircase, and he then followed.

They rushed down to the end of the hall, entering through a pair of double doors. They found themselves in the ship's kitchen. A very high tech space, it had top of the line cooking technology. Multiple nuclear ovens made of stainless steel, sat on one wall, able to cook food in a matter of seconds. Multiple subzero fridges and freezers sat around the room, these too reflective. All of the cabinets were flashy metal, as were the appliances.

"Here we are, the one room the Angels cannot go," The Doctor said, throwing his arms out wide.

"Why not? I don't..." Katrina started.

"Because everything here is like a mirror," Ursula muttered.

"Exactly, so clean you can see yourself," The Doctor smirked, tapping his reflection in a cabinet.

"Your clever," Sarah complemented.

"Always. We can rest here for awhile. Maybe find some food... I have a sudden craving for fish fingers and custard."


	7. Chapter 7: Kitchen Nightmares

( _Author's Note: This chapter is dedicated to BurgundyHope, as she inspired some of this, and has managed to make me a better writer, and maybe a bit of a better person too. The song in this chapter is Johanna from Sweeney Todd. I do not own it. Last but not least, I apologize to you all for what I am about to do. I DO have a plan so don't freak on me too much guys. Enjoy)_

"This isn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be," commented a full- mouthed Sarah Jane. She dipped another fish finger into the bowl of creamy custard, and put it in her mouth. The fishy taste mixed with the sweet custard, it was bizzare but not all too terrible. Not great, but not vomit inducing.

"I used to really like this before, not so much now, but I guess I was feeling nostalgic," The Doctor shrugged. He had that same look in his eyes, that same twinkle she had seen so many times looking back at her.

"You two are disgusting, I hope you know that," Dawson grumbled, his axe laying on the stove top.

"Oh shut up Capitan Grumpy, it's not so bad once you get used to it. I used to eat this all the time back in the day," he countered in a more playful way than aggravated.

"When did you decide on this as a food though? I never saw you eat this," she asked. She had seen him try a lot of things but never this whacky combination.

"In my bowtie stage. Blame Amy Pond for it. It's her fault," he answered.

"I never thought you'd be the type to like fishfingers," Katrina started, "the way Sarah described you, it sounded like you were debonaire all the time."

"Who says fish fingers can't be classy? That's what the custard is for! Custard is classy! Everyone knows that!" he chattered. The girl returned with a hearty laugh, to which he replied with a strange look.

He and Sarah Jane sat on the floor, their backs against a big refrigerator. Katrina sat right near by, against one of the ovens. Ursula was perched on a counter, mostly listening to the others talk. Dawson stood and paced back and forth.

Sarah Jane could tell their was something wrong with him, but couldn't tell what. She noticed he had his hand jammed in his pocket, in a bit of an unnatural way. She realized it was balled in a fist in his pocket. She wondered why he would do that... especially if injured.

"Ursala, would you sing us a song?" The Doctor abruptly asked. The Silurian suddenly looked suprised, and a bit embarrassed.

"I um... well..." she stammered.

"Oh come on, we'll be crispy in a few hours anyway, I'd at least like to hear one more performance from you. I'm quite a fan you know," The Doctor complimented. He was always so charming that way. It was very disarming. Intentionally so.

"Alright, why not. I mean, I may as well have one last performance," she finally agreed. She cleared her throat, and started.

"I feel you Johanna, I feel you,

Do they think walls can hide you?

Even now I am at your window, I am in the dark beside you,

Buried sweetly in your yellow hair, Johanna,

Are you beautiful and pale, with yellow hair, like her?

Are you beautiful and pale, the way I've dreamed you were, Johanna?

Johanna,

And if you're beautiful then what, with yellow hair like wheat?

I think we shall not meet again, my little dove, my sweet, Johanna

I'll steal you, Johanna,

Goodbye Johanna, your gone and yet your mine, I'm fine Johanna, I'm fine,

Johanna

And if I never hear your voice, my turtledove, my dear,

I still have reason to rejoice, for the way ahead is clear,

Johanna,

I feel you, Johanna,

And in the darkness when I'm blind with what I can't forget,

It's always morning on my mind, my little lamb, my pet,

Johanna,

You stay Johann, the way I dreamed you are,

Oh look, Johanna, a star, a shooting star,

And although I'll think of you, I guess until the day I die,

I think I miss you less and less as every day goes by,

Johanna,

And you'd be beautiful and pale, and look so much like her,

If only angels could prevail, we'd be the way we were,

Johanna,

I feel you, Johanna,

Wake up Johanna, another bright red day,

We learn, Johanna to say goodbye,

I'll steal you,"

Ursula finished, bowing her head. The Doctor clapped lightly, with a wide grin.

"That's from Sweeny Todd," Sarah Jane smiled.

"I... hope you don't mind I cut out the old crone's parts, it's just that my band mate Jack used to do her parts on stage and... I wouldn't feel right doing it without him," she explained.

"It was beautiful, a wonderful homage," The Doctor followed. Sarah caught a few light tears begin to trickle from her reptilian eyes. The Doctor laid his wrinkled hand on her knee and pushed himself into a kneeling position.

"It's alright, don't cry," he whispered, "I know they're gone, but that's alright, it's the way of things. It's natural. But people we love, they don't just go away, do they?" he tipped her chin up with his hand, to look at her, "of course not. They live on in us. In our memories and what they leave behind. We carry them with us, the things we said and did, the times we shared, promises we made to them when they left us. And sure one day we will die, and no one will remember, but that doesn't mean they existed any less. They were still here, and they will be the only one of them to ever exist. No one will ever be you, or me, or Sarah or Grumpy. No one. We all matter because of that. Don't cry because they died, celebrate because they happened."

"All I can think of is how scared he must have been, or he is!" she burst, tears rushing down her face, "he didn't deserve to go out that way. Everytime I think of him I see him dying. I just watch him disappear over and over and over in my head, like it's part of every memory.

"You can't do that. I know it's nature, but you can't. We as people, we always focus on the ending of things; books, films, plays, everything, but just because you were present for their end doesn't mean that it was all they were. You can't focus on the end so much you forget there was a beginning and a middle." She stared at him for a few seconds, wiping away the tears.

"It's hard but... I know you're right. Thankyou Doctor," she finally replied. The tears still came but perhaps less than they had. It was something. The old Time Lord just smiled in return, giving her a gentle pat.

"Oh well this was just heart warming," Dawson groused snidely, clapping his hands, "good show Doctor, well done. Like any of your pearls of wisdom matter anymore. We're all going to die, so I'd suggest you get the hell over it. There are better ways to spend the last few hours of your life than feeling sorry for yourself." Ursala turned her head to him, her scaly mouth dropping open. Sarah Jane scowled

"You mean like being a horse's ass, Dawson? How dare you!" She shouted. Perhaps it was her over protective nature, or because she had children, but no one was going to bully her friends. She didn't care if he was bigger, meaner, or louder. She had seen worse than him. Davros, The Trickster, Sutek; Dawson was gum on the bottom of their shoes. Seeing her boiling over, The Doctor put his hand on her shoulder.

"Sarah, don't. It's not his fault," he said earnestly. He gave her a sad look, catching her off guard.

"I don't..." she started.

"It's his hand. Isn't that right Dawson?" The engineer glared back in return.

"What do you know?" he grumbled angrily.

"I know something terrible is happening to you. I know it has to do with that wound your hiding from us, because you have been diffrent since you got it. I know you haven't told us everything, and it's putting us in danger. Time to come clean my surly friend." The Doctor stood, taking out his sonic screwdriver.

Dawson still looked angry, but he seemed to relent. He started undoing his wrap, revealing the wound. It was so terrible, Sarah Jane nearly looked away.

The long scratches were now filled with grey stone. It reached down, encompassing his entire hand, now indistinguishable from that of a statue. His nails had started to grow into grotesque claws, and swirls of concrete were whisping up his arm, dusting his elbow.

"Oh my God," Katrina whispered, backing away, horrified. Ursala stayed put, not taking her slitted eyes off it. Dawson only looked down at it, then at The Doctor.

"This is just as bad as I think it is, ain't it?" he asked.

"Yes Dawson, it is. I... have seen a lot of things in my liftime but never this... How... how did that happen. I need you to tell me exactly how you got this scratch." He sighed reluctantly.

"I went to go open the remote shutters. Someone had locked them down, but I knew I could open them. I got in there, got them open, no problem. I didn't see the Angel hiding behind the door, and it came after me. I didn't see it, but I heard it. I thought I was dead, but instead of touching me, it clawed me. It hurt like holy hell but I got away, leaving it in there. I knew something was wrong about it, but I didn't think it was this..." he shook his head mournfully. Sarah could tell how upset he was.

"What did it look like, this Angel. Did you get a look at it?" The Doctor asked. He absently scanned his arm with the sonic screwdriver.

"It looked like all the others but... it had a crown sculpted into it's head. Thorns... like Christ." The Doctor seemed to mull it over, squinting his eyes.

"It's a form of procreation... this is interesting... not the fun kind of interesting like astrophysics, or those people on television that eat dirt. Bad interesting."

"God, stop talking about him like he's a science experiment, you sicko," Katrina shouted.

"Kindly shut up please, I'm talking to myself, it's rude to interrupt someone when their talking to themselves," he held up a spindly finger, silencing her. "No, no, no... why? Why a scratch? Sarah!" he jumped, looking at her.

"You just said it, it's how they procreate..." she answered. He shook his head.

"No, no, no. They procreate the normal way, or whatever is normal for a Weeping Angel. The point is, they have children. We met those, remember? So what is the need for that?" he pointed violently at the engineer's arm.

"Maybe it's because they can, no reason?" Ursala questioned. He waved it off.

"No one does something for nothing, least of all instinct driven predators. There is a reason. A logical, primal reason."

"Well it's obvious it turns the person they scratch into one of them. Maybe they're trying to bolster their ranks," Sarah Jane reasoned. It made sense to her. More numbers meant more power.

"Could be, but if that was the case why feed on all of these people? Why not turn most of them? No... that's close, but I'm missing something." Realization hit Sarah like a brick to the head.

"He said it wore a crown. Maybe it's a leader. Maybe it does that, but the others can't. It's obviously special or it wouldn't have that sort of regalia."

"A Real Bad Angel... working title... that scratches people. Turns them into other Angels... no! Not just other Angels! Angles like themselves! How many of these have you seen, these Royal Angels? Still working on a name..."

Everyone, Sarah included, shook their heads. She couldn't think of ever seeing one.

"Exactly. I've seen these more times than I care to admit and I've never seen anything like that. They must be rare. They need a way to insure their genes live on, so they create another like themselves, out of a worthy prey. Congratulations Dawson, your worthy of being an Archangel... yes, that's what we'll call them." The engineer just looked at him, unreadable.

"You can fix it though right? I mean, you're a Doctor." Katrina said.

"I'm not going to lie, and I'm sorry but... no, I don't think so. I've never seen this before, let alone know what to do about it. Plus, this happened, what? A few hours ago? And the metamorphosis is already up your arm, and changing your personality, and traits."

"It's not..." Dawson started protesting.

"You yelled at us for looking at you, you've been depressed, not weeping, but not your angry self, and you whacked the head off that thing downstairs. I've seen people shoot these with jacketed flat point bullets, and they didn't fall apart. You need to be emensely strong to do that. I know you've had a life of hard labor, but even you aren't that tough. Those things on the other hand, they can rip though steel doors like a tin can. Go ahead, tell me you aren't changing. The point is, even if I could take the time to figure it out, he would be one of them already. It's moving to fast. Dawson... this looks like a death sentence."

The engineer didn't say much at first, he smirked.

"Heh... I don't think when I got up this morning, this is where I'd be. Standing in a kitchen, with a fatal virus that will steal who I am..." he mused.

"So that's it, your just going to give up? Some big hero you are." Katrina returned.

"Im not giving up. I never give up. Until Dawson is fully angelified. I'm going to try and figure this out. But I'm not going to lie. The chances of me saving you Dawson, are slim. Very slim. Microscopic. You deserve to know."

The engineer nodded.

"I appreciate that. I was never one for pipe dreams anyway. How... how long you think I've got?"

"A few hours at the most... I don't know." Sarah Jane shook her head, and rubbed her face. This was going from bad to worse, to horrible. Dawson didn't deserve that. Not a bit. She felt a pang of guilt. If she had just gone with him, maybe he would be alright. Maybe he wouldn't have been scratched. She felt responsible, and she couldn't make it right.

"Then let's get out of here. Maybe I can do some good before I go out. Help you get to where you need to go." The Doctor nodded.

"Let's get out of here. He's right. We need to go."

Sarah Jane stood, her stomache wracked with guilt. If she could only go back...

* * *

The Doctor quietly shut the kitchen door behind them. His mind wandered as they walked up the hall.

Archangel. He had never heard of that. Definitely never seen one. When it came down to it, he knew little of the actual inner workings of Weeping Angel society. Up until today, he was not even sure they had a hierarchy of any kind. He glanced backwards at Dawson. His hand was no longer bandaged, just hanging at his side. He turned away from it. It wasn't the ugliness of it, nor the grotesque nature of it's stone nails. It was shame. Maybe if he hadn't made them split up, or if he had taken Dawson instead of useless Dirk, this wouldn't be happening. Or it would be, just to someone else. Like Sarah Jane. He wouldn't be able to live with that on his head.

They trekked up another flight of stairs. They were close to the control deck. This was almost at an end. It also meant his life could be at an end. Getting thrown into a sun... he couldn't regenerate from that. That was... alright. He came to terms long ago one day his lives would end. Everything came to an end sometime. He was more upset that he may be getting Sarah Jane killed. All because he had been selfish.

No one spoke. He thought he may have been too harsh. Perhapse the truth of Dawson's situation was unkind, but it wasn't any less true. He was turning into a monster. In a few hours, Dawson would be gone. Maybe even faster than that. It depended, on what was going on inside. He didn't even want to imagine that. While there was a small chance of them escaping, as the Tardis could come back, there was likly no chance for Dawson. It was all down hill from there.

Everything on the next floor was silent. Now a more industrial section of the ship, the posh walls were replaced by cold metal. Vents and electronic boxes were clearly visible, and the lights were mearly functional, not at all decorative.

They went ul the next hall. Everything was so quiet he could hear a pin drop. If anythibg it made him more nervous. It reminded him of a powerful storm. The quieter it was beforehand, the more devastating the storm was.

They rounded the next corner, and his hearts sank. Down the hall was the stairway they needed to go up, just to the left. Further down however, were a group of Angels, all in their weeping form, all stading frozen by his sight. He took note of the Angel at the group's front however. Even above it's clawed hands covering it's face, he could see the stone carved crown, appearing as a wreath of thorns, just as Dawson had said. He did a quick count. At least twelve of them.

"Good Lord," Sarah Jane whispered behind him. He heard her suck in a shallow breath.

"Just keep your eyes on them, don't blink, we can make it to the steps, if we keep looking at them."

"What about after that?" Dawson asked. He hefted up his axe, ready to fight.

"I'm working that out right now..." The Doctor muttered. They could back their way to the control deck. It wasn't far. He just hoped there weren't any Angels up there.

His throughts were shattered by a childlike laugh echoing through the hall, coming from behind them. He slowly turned around, dreading what he knew he would see.

More Weeping Angels had gathered behind them. A crowd for eight crying adults packed the hall, with six children at there feet. He could see the silhouette of more around the corner, their quick shadows flitting around.

"This is it... we're the only one's left... they're here to get rid of us," he hissed. He gripped the sonic screwdriver tightly. It was rare to be this surrounded. Even more rare to survive it.

"Sarah Jane, turn around, look where I am," he instructed. She did as told, gasping as she did. "Keep your eyes on them, don't blink. Take my hand." She did so, placing her petite hand in his. "I'll guide you forward. He turned to the other mass of Weeping Angels. Their crying faces greeted him, menacingly.

"Hurry, this way, to the stairs," he said. He didn't dare take his eyes off the Angels ahead. Nether did Dawson nor Ursula. Slowly they krept forward. He felt Sarah Jane's hand start to sweat. He could feel her fear. His hearts pounded with each step closer, and his mind raced. They had to figure out what to do next, because these groups would converge at the stairs. Maybe they could bottleneck them into the stairs, and find a way to trap them, or slow them down.

They reached the steps, and he stayed facing his group of statues.

"Dawson, you first, up you go," The Doctor ordered. Dawson did as he was told, starting up. "Katrina you next. Come on, hurry." He heard her wimper timidly. So much fear...

"You go next, dear," Sarah Jane said, laying her other hand on the Silurian's shoulder. She lingered for a moment, before heading up.

"Jesus!" Dawson shouted, "this is no good Doctor, they're up here too! He shouted down the stairs.

"Keep your eyes on them Dawson! We're on the way up!" The Doctor yelled.

"Doctor... is this the end?" Sarah Jane whispered.

"No, of course not. We'll get to the control room, and it will be fine. Trust me," he tired to comfort. She chuckled.

"Rule one, The Doctor lies," she answerd. He felt his eyes well for only a second, but pushed it back, "it's not a bad way to go out, back to back,with my best friend."

"Remember that time we ran into the Krynoids?" he asked, changing the subject.

"With those plant things? Yes. I remember most when they put you in the crusher," she answered.

"That was a tight spot... we got out of that alright," he was grasping at straws.

"We had the Brigidear," she pointed out. He shrugged.

"We have Dawson,"

"He is definitely not the Brigidear," she laughed.

"You have me there," he replied.

"Best get to it. Our entourage is waiting," she said.

"Indeed, step sideways. One!" he said and they moved to the left. He wanted to keep the Angels in his vision as long as possible. "Two." Their second step blocked one eye, but he could still see them. "Three, turn!" he yelled as they took the final step, blocking their view of the Angels. Both turned sideways, facing out into the hall.

In that second's time they turned to see the statues crowded around them. The front row's hands were outstretched, screeming faces inches from them. The one in front of him wore the crown atop it's ugly head, and it's screem had a bit of a curve to it, like a smile through the rage. It made him sick.

"I've got this, up the stairs! Go!" he yelled to Sarah Jane. She turned around, bounding up the steps. He started walking up them, backwards, always keeping his eyes on the creatures before him.

"So, you think you're going to win, eh mommy? That's what I'm assuming you are to them. Your children are hideous," he taunted, backing up, "you won't win. I will. I always win. Even when I lose I win. You've made a fatal error. You think I value my own life more than I value stopping you. I don't. I'm more than happy to die one final time to kill you." His feet touched the landing and he side stepped.

"There are things more important than self preservation. You will never understand that" As he stepped again, losing sight of them, he tuned. They had piled onto the landing in front of him, the disgusting Archangel, face to face with him. "You have to care about something more than yourself to grasp that. You're incapable of that. I feel sorry for you. You just survive. No matter how may people you eat, you will never truly live."

"Doctor, I've got them in my sights. Turn around, get the hell up here!" Dawson yelled. The Doctor turned about. At the top of the stairs, stood a pair of Angels. They were frozen in place by Katrina, who kept vigil on them. He rushed up the steps to the hallway. Turning around.

"Alright, come on, if we back up, we can hold them off, round the corner, and maybe..." he started

"No Doctor, just go." Ursula interrupted.

"We can't out run them, you know that," he said.

"Yes you can. I'm staying." she explained.

"No, you can't!" Katrina whined, her face a mask of disbelief.

"You'll die, let me stay, I'm dead anyway," Dawson countered.

"They need you to reprogram the controls. It's alright... it's time," she replied, taking a deep breath. The Doctor did not try to stop her. It was the look in her lizard eyes. He had seen it many times. Resignation, and dedication, mixed with resolve. He wouldn't be able to talk her out of it. He himself wore that look many times. He knew.

"Do me a favor Doctor, stop this madness," she asked.

"I will. For you," he returned with a nod.

"No, for you."

"Goodbye Ursula," Sarah Jane said, wrapping her arms around the girl in a final hug. Dawson gave her one last look, before burying his face in the palms of his hands, taking a sharp breath as he did. The Doctor thought be may have seen a pair of growths jutting from the man's back through his shirt, but it may have been the light. He didn't say anything. Things were sullen enough.

"Go, before they figure a way around," the singer said. She turned her back, and took her place at the top of the stairs. Here she had a view of those standing in front of her, and those on the landing below. The Doctor laid his hand on her shoulder one last time, and turned around.

Together, they hurried down the hall, leaving Ursula behind, and rounded the corner.

Up the next all they went, rounding another bend. They were close now. They could make it. One more cold metal hall, and they would reach their goal.

"Doctor wait!" Sarah Jane shouted from behind. He skidded to a stop.

"We can't stop Sarah, what is it!" he spat hurriedly.

"I thought I saw an Angel or someth..." she started.

In the blink of an eye, Sarah Jane Smith disappeared into thin air. Standing in her place was a small cherub, an evil grin across it's chubby face, it's hand reaching up where his friend had once been.

"Sarah... no!" The Doctor clenched his fists. His teeth gritted like a vice. He found himself shaking uncontrolably and angry tears stung his eyes. The rage of a Timelord. It had only just begun.


	8. Chapter 8: Back to the Future

The Doctor couldn't move. He couldn't even speak. His knees quivered and his hands clenched into fists so hard his nails threatened to dig holes in his palms and his knuckles turned white. His eyes stared at the cherub statue in front of him, filling him with rage. If his gaze could melt it, he would have, three times over. His face felt hot like lava, and his chest hollow.

She was gone. His Sarah Jane was gone. Over and over his mind played her disappearing into thin air, like she hadn't existed in the first place. For but a moment he hoped he was insane, that she had stayed back in old England, and he had only dreamed her coming with him. He knew he hadn't; he was many things, but crazy was not among them.

He hated himself. He pressured her to come. He used every sleezy, dirty trick, and piece of broken logic in the book to get her to come. All so he wouldn't feel alone. All so he could have someone to travel with. Now she was gone, sent to who knows where. He couldn't track it. No hope of finding her. It was his fault.

He leveled his eyes on the Angel before him. No. It was their fault. They took her. Fed on her like a bear on meat. Tore her away from what she was meant to be, and do. This wasn't supposed to be over like this. Sarah Jane and The Doctor were supposed to fly away in the Tardis for days to come. Run across space like the old days. He wasn't supposed to watch her blink out like that, into thin air.

They would pay. All of them. They thought they were in hell now. They knew nothing of hell. He would get out of here; find a way to destroy the ship, and get out. These Angels would die in a ball of fire. Their perdition would not end there. He would find them, hunt their kind through all of time and space, and burn them. Eliminate them all. Their past would become a bloodbath for their future's genocide. They thought they feared The Doctor now. When he was done they would flee like rats in his wake. They didn't know true fear. Not yet.

"Doctor... you okay?" Katrina asked, laying her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't touch me," he growled, shrugging her off, "and don't ask me stupid questions." She was an idiot. Well meaning, but an idiot. He imagined she noticed him shake, or the homicidal glare in his eyes. He didn't care. Let her notice.

He had to push it aside, just for now. The anger would help no one, least of all himself. He had people to save. Angels to stop. There was a task at hand. He couldn't forget that. He pushed his rage down, buried it with his sorrow. He would never forget Sarah Jane. He would never forgive the Weeping Angels for what they had done to her. He would never forgive himself.

"Come on, we still have a job to do. We can outrun this one if we're fast," he said. He started backing up, and his two remaining survivors followed, doing the same. He did so until he reached the corner, and rounded it, taking off down the hall.

At the end of this hall was a large, white door. This was the door to the Captain's quarters, and beyond that, the ship's control center. They ran to it. He wanted to hurry, get out of here, as soon as possible. He would find a way. He was The Doctor. The Doctor finds a way.

As they approached the door, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver, and aimed it at the lock. With an alien warble, it clicked and he shoved the door open.

As his old eyes fell on the room before him, he did something he imagined he would never do again.

The Doctor smiled.

* * *

It felt like falling. It was like that moment when one trips down a set of stairs, right before one hits, that floating in in between heartbeats, and brain waves. The fear of knowing the fall is there, the anticipation of pain, or injury, the panic of trying to stop it. This fall... it couldn't be stopped. There was no tangible way to halt the crippling momentum.

For a few seconds, or perhapse minutes (she couldn't tell anymore) she couldn't remember her name. Who was she? Where was she?

"Sarah! No!" a distorted, distant voice yelled. It was like someone shouting underwater. Yes... Sarah. That was her name. Sarah Jane. As soon as the memory came, it slipped away from her mind, lost to the fog.

She had never thought about what nothing felt like. It was strange. Did she exist? She felt no sensations on the skin, no breath in and out of her lungs, heard no heartbeats, and saw nothing. Black... that was all it was. All it felt like. It was almsot like that twilight moment between waking from sleep, and sleep itself, but it did not end in seconds or minutes like normal. What were seconds or minutes anyway? Had any even passed here?

"Your name is Sarah Jane," something in her head screamed. She knew that. Somewhere she did. She had to hold onto that before it disappeared again. And The Doctor. That crazy old man she loved rambling round the universe with. She had been with him. Sarah Jane and The Doctor.

The world popped in around her as she landed painfully on her backside. She franticaly glanced around. She was in a marble tiled bedroom, complete with a glass table, and well made lamps. The glow of the light was comforting, but she couldn't focus on that.

Sarah Jane quickly stood up, looking around. Where was she? The last thing she knew she had said something to The Doctor. All her memories came rushing back to her. Weeping Angels. She had thought she had seen a Weeping Angle, and was trying to tell him. Then... she was here. It hit her... she got touched.

Fear clutched her stomach. Where was she? He said anyone touched could end up anywhere, in any time. She was without her friend now... whenever now was. She had to get back!

Her mind raced. How? How could she? The Doctor could not find her. It was impossible. She didn't even know where she was, let alone if he could find her. She had no doubt he would try. She could only imagine how he felt right now. There was one thing The Doctor was bad at; being alone. Not to mention she was stuck God knows where. Would she ever see her kids again? Or her friends? Or even that old Time Lord of hers? She didn't know. That scared her more than anything.

"Thankyou for choosing the Black Inertia, the finest luxury space liner this side of the Morson Cluster. Please enjoy your stay, and remember, all of space is waiting!" a cheery voice crackled over an intercom. Black Inertia. She was still on the ship.

But how could that be? She was obviously touched by a Weeping Angel. They sent people anywhere, but always backwards. Then it hit her, and she suddenly felt foolish. The loud speakers shouldn't be working. The power was out. There was only one answer, staring her in the face.

She _was_ backwards. Her heart lept, but she wasn't about to get too excited. Not yet. She needed to gather herself. She ran her hand across the pocket of her pants. She felt the familiar weight of her sonic lipstick. Good, she wasn't sure if she lost it on her forced trip.

Next, she needed to figure out _when_ she was. She took a deep breath, walked to the door, and opened it.

A bank of windows greeted her, familiar, but a few floors down from her room with The Doctor. She recognized the same glowing, firey suns, and spinning dusty nebulas that had greeted her so many times now. They were a tad farther away however, moving closer at a snail's pace. That was promising. Very much so.

She walked down the hall, now a buzz with activity. Familes of all race's, and creeds moved up and down the hall, carrying luggage, and chattering excitedly. Housekeepers, and servers wheeled carts of supplies, and exotic foods to each room, greeting the customers pleasantly. It was far too eerie for her. Only a second ago this place had been void of life, and had become a floating hunting ground. Now it had been resurrected in the snap of a finger. She shook her head.

She had to find out when this was, what the date was. Gýrothian Flame Dance. The Doctor took her here just to see that, because of how much of a rarity it was. If it was on the event board, this was the same day.

She walked until she finally found one, passing more and more people. It was unsettling. These people... they were very likely all already dead. They just didn't know it yet.

She gazed at the board, and her heart lept to her throat. Gýrothian Flame Dance, scheduled for three o'clock. This was the same day alright. She looked up at the clock above the board. It was ten minutes before she and The Doctor even arrived. She was backwards, but not as much as she had thought.

She wondered how she got so lucky. People ended up almost anywhere when an Angel touched them. Why was she in the same place, and only a few hours backwards? It couldn't have all been luck, could it?

Then she remembered something The Doctor told her. He had said if she had to get touched, get touched by a child. The children only sent people back a few hours. That must have been what happened. It was the only logical explanation.

This was good, although she hated to admit it. She had foreknowledge, and knew what was going to happen. She could prepare, and assist. She knew how careful she would need to be. Alone, and against a force like the Weeping Angels was daunting, and perhapse impossible. She could not risk getting touched a second time. She had lucked out this round. Another, and she wouldn't be so lucky.

Not only that, she couldn't risk creating a paradox. Meeting herself would end badly. Long ago The Doctor told her of the Time Reapers, who punished those who crossed their timelines. Only a Time Lord could do that, with few exceptions. She couldn't run into The Doctor either. He would have mentioned seeing her if he had. It meant he hadn't. Neither had the rest; not Dawson, Ursula, Dirk, nor Katrina. She had to stay in the shadow, and work behind the sceens.

But where was she to start? She had no idea. The Angels weren't active, not yet. She had time to work, but not much. She had to figure what would be most beneficial to her friends, and The Doctor. Could she change anything? Probably not, but she had to try.

Key. The Doctor needed a key. He said the door into the control room was deadlock sealed, and in the future he already had it, dropped off by a mysterious helper.

It clicked for her. She was that helper. It was so obvious. They had survived this far, partially because of her. She had to do that now, because she had done it already. First thing was to get that key.

"Excuse me ma'am," a maid suddenly approched her with a kind smile, "can I help you find anything?"

"Yes, I have an appointment with the Captain," Sarah Jane bluffed. She didn't know it would work but she had to try.

"Oh you must be the contest winner!" she exclaimed, "welcome to the Black Inertia Mrs. Capulate."

"Yes! That's me!" she replied convincingly. This was working out in her favor so far.

"Congratulations! Here, let me lead you to meet Captain Raymark. He should be just about ready for lunch." She was happy for once that people often made incorrect assumptions. She was one step closer to the key. He had to be carrying it, or it was near him. She had to get to him before the Angels did.

She followed behind the houskeeper silently. She didn't want to talk too much, and possibly give away her true identity. It stood to reason that the actual Mrs. Capulate was on board. It was also likly she would eventually want to meet the Capitan as she was suposed to. As long as she was long gone by then, with her key in her hand, she didn't care. This whole place was going to be destroyed in a few hour's time. It didn't matter.

She entered the lift with the housekeeper, who pressed the required floor button. As the door shuffled closed, she felt the whole thing jolt to he left, then shoot up.

"So, how did you win Mrs. Capulate," the maid asked with a cheery grin.

"Same as everyone else I guess. I assume these happen for this ship often don't they? Being such a popular destination," she changed the subject away from specifics. It was better that way.

"Oh, the lotteries have become very popular over the last few years. There is one for every trip, sometimes two. The Capitan loves them. Social butterfly that one is," she continued. Sarah Jane breathed a sigh of relief. If he did this all the time, there was a good chance this was run of the mill for him. He would just treat it as part of his job, rather than probe, and ask too many questions. This would fall apart if he asked too much. She was a good liar, but not that good.

The elevator jerked to a stop, and the doors opened to a stark metal hall. It looked very similer to the one she had disappeared from not long ago, with alloy walls, and unadorned lights. It was very disorienting to her, thinking that in a few hours she, and The Doctor would be making a near final stand in a hall like this, and their friend would sacrifice herself, and allow them to escape.

"Come on, this way," the girl said, her heels clacking down the hall. Sarah Jane followed. They passed down a few halls, finally reaching one that she recognized. As they came out of the door, to her left was a tight set of steps, to her right, a curve to the left. This was where Ursula held off the Angels. Where the kind, talented Silurian would make the ultimate sacrifice.

As she moved around the next, her head began to swim. She herself disappeared here. It was bright now, with the power still on, not dark, and dingy, as it had been. Was this really happening? Had she really gone backwards and passed where she, effectively, should have died? Even with all of her experience with the paranormal and the downright weird, this had reached an entirely new level.

They soon arived in a hall with a large, white door. This had to be her destination.

"That down there is the door to the Capitan's quarters. Just go knock, he will be with you shortly," the maid confirmed. She gave her a kind nod, before turning and leaving. Sarah marched down the hallway, taking a deep breath. She just had to get the key. Get the key, and get it to where The Doctor would find It.

She approched the door, and wrapped her knuckles on it confidently. She had to seem like she belonged.

"Just a minute!" a muffled shouted came from beyond it. She waited, her stomach a mass of nerves. She was never one for this sort of espionage. Sneaking about she could do. Utterly lying to people was not her strongest attribute. She could do it, and do it well. She did not take joy in it, however.

The bulkhead clunked, and creaked open in front of her, revealing an older man. He had a thick grey moustache, but his chin was shaved clean. He was tall and thin, with forward slumped shoulders, although his posture was military straight. His outfit was a buttoned up pea coat, with epilettes on the shoulders, and a beret on his head. In some ways he reminded her of her old friend, Brigidear Lethbridge Stewart. It would make this harder for her.

"Good morning ma'am, can I help you?" he asked. She nodded.

"I'm Mrs. Capulate, here to see Capitan Raymark." The thin man broke into a toothy smile.

"Mrs Capulate! It is good to see you! Come in, come in!" he moved aside and she walked through.

Regal was a word to describe this room. It was dominated by a giant wooden table. Set with dinnerware, and two elaborate candleabreas, it was obvious this man entertained frequently. The walls were lined with massive glass boxes, displaying an impressive collection of weaponry. It was obvious this man had spent many years acquiring these pieces, as their looked to be one from every century. She saw curved katanas, old viking style long axes, muskets from the civil war, laser guns, used in future conflicts that were now in the past, she even spotted some kind of grenade sitting on a shelf, with a pillow all to itself. A few doors led out of here on either side, but the one directly ahead caught her eye. Sturdy, and made of dark metal, it was reinforced by bars from top to bottem and side to side. In the center was a lock, connected to gears that disappeared into the entry. That was obviously the way into the ships control room.

"Please ma'am sit down, make yourself comfortable. I wasn't expecting you so early. They said you would be arriving on our stop at Marriott Station. He walked into the room, shutting the door behind them. Not wanting to seem suspicious, she sat down, and he did as well.

"I dicided to hop to the first stop, get the most out of the trip, seemed well worth the cost," she lied. She tried to be as genuine as possible.

"Oh absolutely. There's no reason not to," he replied, " I always enjoy this you know, talking to the people who win a trip rather than purchase one."

"Why is that?"

"The normal clientele are the super rich, and I find them tedious. Our winners however come from all walks of life, and every corner of the galaxy. They have so many stories, so many things to say other than boring talk of money, and incessant name dropping."

"I agree. I've always found the tales of other people's lives fascinating," she replied. That was the first truth she had told him. The Doctor had taught her how to appreciate the lives of others, and all they had to offer. She could see that same glimmer in the eyes of the Captain.

He started to answer, but he stopped short as the lights above them flickered on, and off. The nerves inside her jumpstarted. It was beginning. She needed to hurry.

The Capitan glanced up to the ceiling, narrowing his eyes.

"That was strange... that usually doesn't happen," he said. She wanted to tell him. She wished she could, but he would never believe her.

"What are all of these waepons?" she asked, changing the subject. He stood up, turning to face one of the walls, the lights flickering again. As he turned his back, she saw the thick key hanging from his belt. It had to be the key to that door. She knew where it was, now she just had to get to it.

"I was a Corpral in the first Cyberwar. See that grenade right there?" He pointed to the cylinder in the center of the case. "That was thrown into my foxhole. It didn't go off, because the trigger mechanism was faulty. I kept it, and it started there I guess. I took an interest in the things that humans used to protect themselves with, and unfortunately, kill one another with. It is amazing really, how much the weapons have changed over the melenium. I had a bust in my family home, of a distant relative from centuries ago, with a quote beneath it; 'science leads.' I suppose with the machines of war, this is most true."

"Unfortunately, if there is one thing the universe at large is good at, it is finding new ways to kill one another," Sarah replied grimly. She had seen enough of it to know it was true. The Capitan opened his mouth to reply when abruptly, the room was bathed in complete darkness.

"Blast it," he exclaimed, "I'm going to check the readings, see if something is wrong." He pulled his key off his belt and walked toward the door. This was her one and only chance. Stealthy she took out her sonic lipstick, and followed behind him. He put his key in the lock, and turned it.

The tumblers turned, the bars moving, and gears clicking out of place. Although, unable to see it well in the dark, she imagined it was an impressive display. She heard the door creak open, and got as close as she could. He hooked the key back on his belt as she walked up.

"Here, let me get out my pen light..." she muttered, intentionally bumping into the Captain with a feigned shout. As she did, she deftly moved her sonic tool across his keyring, shearing the thin metal. She got her hand beneath it as the key dropped, catching it and putting it in her pocket.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" she shouted.

"No no, that's quite alright. I'm afarid I can't let you in here however, this control deck is off limits," he returned. For a moment she had helf a mind to push right passed him and reprogram the ship to fly to the nearest star hereslf, but she dismissed that. She was very tech savy but not enough so to do that. No, she needed The Doctor. She'd need to do this the hard way.

"That's fine, I'll wait right here." He disappeared through the door ahead. She had no intention of sticking to that. Key in tow, she bolted for the door. She needed to be swift. The Doctor was relying on her.

She stopped for a moment, remembering something. Explosion... there was an explosion on the upper floors. She turned and looked at the deactivated grenade behind the glass, glass that could be easily cut by her lipstick. She sighed. The things she did for The Doctor. He would owe her for this one.


	9. Chapter 9: Sarah Jane MacGyver

The Weeping Angels waited. They could see the elevator coming up the shaft. To them, it was like food being delivered right to them. The three waited, uncovering their faces as the lift approched. A ding accompanied what should be their food. They readied for the kill, as the doors opened.

Sarah Jane could only imagine their horror when those doors did open to a tall mirror in their path. With their faces uncovered, their eagerness to eat was their downfall.

She slipped out from behind the mirror, and took a moment to admire her handy work. The Doctor would be proud. She had taken the mirror from a room downstairs, and wheeled it into the elevator when she went up. If the Angels were anything, it was predictable. They waited for her, just as they had when she was with The Doctor. She was ready this time. All three now had a clear line of sight at one and other, and themselves. They wouldn't be going anywhere, anytime soon.

She turned to the long hotel hall. She was one floor above the Tardis' room. She did that intentionally, not wanting to run into any of the obstacles downstairs.

She had to get to the Tardis' floor first. She had seen the trapped Angels down there. She could only assume they were seaeching for the Tardis. She could not allow them to reach it. It was her job to stop them. She was the only one who could. She took off on a run down the hall.

As she ran, she couldn't help but think of how weird all of this was. She was doing all of this because she had seen it already, and she saw it already because somehow, she had already done it. This all felt twisted into a ball that was mentally impossible to unravel.

She was used to this sort of thing, to some extent. Travelling with a Time Lord caused one to witness the odd, on a massive scale. This however, was a whole new level of strange for her. She had never done anything quite like this...

She caught sight of a metal access door, and skidded to a stop. Electrical tape... she needed electrical tape. She remembered seeing that upstairs when she was first there. There had to be some in that corridor. She put her sonic lipstick against the handle, unlocking it quickly, and slipped inside.

The metal hall was wreathed in shadows, with the emergency lights not doing much to illuminate it. She held out her sonic tool, extending the light coming from the head. The red glow was no flashlight, but it would work for the time being. She crept forward, keeping her eyes peeled for movement of any kind. She didn't want to be caught unaware. She could not afford too. The Doctor, the other survivors, and even her past self, were relying on her. She did not think for a second that just because she had seen herself do these things, that it was set in stone. The Doctor once told her the future was always in motion, and could be changed, regardless of what has been already seen. If she failed, there were no telling what the repercussions would be. She couldn't take that chance.

She rounded the dank corner ahead of her, glaring down the hall as far as her light would let her. She could see nothing, other than a locker. That was exactly the sort of thing she was looking for.

She walked to it, and opened it with her tool, illuminating the contents. It was mostly filled with commen tools, such as screwdrivers, and wrenches, but near the bottom she saw her quarry; a big roll of black electrical tape. She snagged it, shutting the door. She continued, reaching a set of stairs.

These would lead her to the floor the Tardis was on. She went down them, still careful to keep an eye out for statues. It was not long before she reached a door, and she opened it.

Before her was the all too familar hall she, and The Doctor started in. It looked almost as she had left it the last time, with bags, and belongings scattered about, haphazardly lost in a terrible attack, ghosts of lives that had been stolen. She looked both directions, seeing no Angels around. She had a feeling they were here however, the future dictated that they would appear.

She walked out, shutting the door behind her, and clicking her lipstick off. Ahead of her were the giant windows she now dreaded seeing. It was once so beautiful, but now it nearly imbodied the fear of moving statues. She almost wished that she could forget that view now, despite how gorgeous she once found it. It bespoke of danger now, rather than the relaxing grandeur it was supposed to be.

Behind her was a set of stairs, the stairs The Doctor would climb up very soon. She needed to be sure this place was clear for him, and so the Tardis would not be damaged by their gluttinous foes.

As soon as she set to walking forward, she heard the pitter patter of footsteps behind her, tapping on the metal steps. She quickly whirled around, knowing all too well what she would see.

From behind her the statue had crept. It stood as all others did, with it's face in it's clawed hands. She immediately began backing up, unwilling to take her eyes off the stone monster. It was just one, she could handle one.

Just as that thought came to mind, she heard the heavy footsteps on the carpet, and inwardly cringed. She had hoped too soon it seemed. Two, in opposite directions... that would be harder.

She found that when she was in true danger, everything seemed to slow, or perhaps her thoughts just sped up. It would only be a second or two before the Weeping Angel was right behind her, touching her. That couldn't happen, not again.

She couldn't run, not from adults. They were far too fast, and she would be dead in seconds. She couldn't turn and look at the one behind her to stop it, the one in front would kill her. She couldn't keep staring at the one in front either, then the one behind her would get her. She doubted she could get to the door fast enough to escape, and even then she had to stop them from finding the Tardis. She couldn't leave. She had to figure out how to stop them, before they stop her.

There was only one way. She shut her eyes, and dropped to her knees.

Time seemed to drag as she kneeled. Waiting for death made seconds feel like hours. She found herself clenching her jaw, and her hands shaking. Fear to be sure but of what? Death or failure... maybe both.

It never came. That impossible falling feeling, and the bleak miasma of nothingness never came. Ever still she felt as though the cold hands would claw at her flesh, and she would blink out again. She didn't.

She cautiously opened her eyes, not wanting to see what was coming to her. Ahead were a pair of stone feet, standing firm to the floor. She glanced up.

The ugly creture's arms were outstretched, and it's face contorted into a hidious growl. She turned to see it's partner in the same position, their arms alomst touching, their eyes looking right at one and other. She realized she had been holding her breath, and exhailed. That was close. Too close.

She crawled out from beneath the arm cage, and stood up. She glanced back, and forth, checking the hall. If their were any more Angels here she wasn't sure what she would do. This was much harder alone. She missed The Doctor now, more than ever.

She didn't have time to lament her situation. There was more to be done. There would be more Angels. She had seen it already, their was no doubt in her mind. She started up the hall once again, her sonic lipstick in hand. She didn't know if it would help her at all, but it couldn't hurt.

As she walked a glint of light caught her eye, and she looked to see what it could be. She smiled as she glanced at the item.

Laying on the floor, next to a dropped bag was a small hand mirror. It had obviously been dropped by a touched passenger. She scooped it up, knowing exactly how she would use it. She reached the turn in the hall, and rounded the corner.

She was met with the horrific sight of a crying statue right in front of her. It appeared that perhapse she had snuck up on it too, as she was a foot from it, and it hadn't tried to grab her. She jumped with suprise, almost making the dire error of looking around for a way to stop it. She cursed herself. One mistake like that, and she could end up dead. She tried to mentally picture the hall, and what was in it. What could she use?

Glass... the glass was reflective. She remembered seeing one stairing into the window, stuck. That was what she would do, she started backing up, angling herself aginst the glowing glass windows.

"Just one blink," she said to herself, "just one." She had to hope it wasn't fast enough to take her down in one blink. She knew the risk, and how deadly they were. Fear gripped her stomach, but she knew she had to force through it, be brave. Her eyes watering from pain of staring, she shut them for a split second.

She found herself gazing into it's terrible stone face, inches from it's maw of teeth. It's rocky arms blocked either side of her, pinning her to the glass. A millisecond more and she would have been Angel food. She felt nauseous. Another close one.

She ducked down, and slid under its arms, leaving it looking at the window. She hoped through the dark of space it could see itself. If it couldn't, she was going to be in serious trouble. When she turned her back, and wasn't attacked, she knew she would be alright.

She started up the hall once again. She was almost to the Tardis. A few more doors.

More clunking came from behind her, footsteps fast approching. She smashed her back aginst the wall, knowing which angel this was. She blinked her eyes, knowing what would greet her.

This monster made it to her in that blink, though it was farther away than the first, it's claws nearly touching her chest. Good, it's face was uncovered, just like she wanted. She held up the hand mirror to it's face. She could only imagine how this creture felt, knowing full well what was about to happen to it. She somehow, beneath the fear, felt some sort of pity for it. Maybe, this was what seperated humans like her, from monsters like them. She could pity her enemies.

She ducked, careful to hold the mirror in the same position. She turned around, and moved it back, pinning it to the wall. She pulled the electrical tape from her pocket, and ripped a long peice from the roll, sticking the mirror in place. She stood up, checking it, catching the reflection of the Angel in the glass. She nooded, and moved away. If her memory served her, that was the final Angel on this floor.

Having dispatched her foes, she finally made her way to her room, unlocking it with her lipstick. She needed to check, just to make sure, that the Tardis was alright. For all she knew she had to lure something out, or power it up. She did not know how much she really did, following the trapped Angels.

She entered the darkened room, finding the familiar glowing police box. The light in the white windows seemed to greet her, almost beckoning her. There were no Weeping Angels here, no danger. Just the phonebox.

She smiled looking at it. It bespoke of home in many ways, sometimes more than her real home. Or maybe it was that dangerous feeling of nostalgia. She couldn't decide, and it didn't matter.

"It's good to see you," she said, giving it a rub, "The Doctor would kill me if I let anything happen to you. He probably loves you more than anyone." It didn't answer of course, but it was a sentient object. It could hear her, feel her. "He's going to need you, you know. He'll come here soon, and try to fly you, but your not going to budge. I understand why, but he thinks you won't come back. He's reprogramming the ship, he's going to do it, I know it." She leaned into the machine. "Do me a favor, even though it's against everything in you, come for him. Please. Don't let him die. The universe needs him. You need him. I need him."

She was not sure if the ship paid any attention to her, or if she could change it's mind. Like any proper lady, it stayed mysterious, and aloof. She hoped she would make a difference. If she didn't then... she tried.

She exited the room, and headed for the stairs. She had to leave the key somewhere he would find it.

Another setback met her however. The door the Angle's had come though was shut. Something had tripped the emergancy locks. More importantly, it was the way the Doctor had to come through. That wouldn't do. She had to get that open.

She twideled with the sonic lipstick, and pressed the button. It chuffed open, and she smiled, pleased with herself. Just as she was about to walk through it slammed shut. She sighed, gritting her teeth. That was no good, she would have to pry it open.

She marched back into the matainance hall, and back to the locker where she found the tape. There had to be something in here to help. Initially she thought of grabbing a hammer, and banging on it, but that was her frustration talking. She had to do something more productive.

She spotted her solution at the bottom of the locker. A crowbar. Grabbing it, she marched back to the door. Sadly this wasn't the first time she had done this for The Doctor, exactly this way.

She approached the door, using her sonic tool to shuff it open again. This time she was ready. With all her strength she rammed the flat end of the bar in the bottom of the door, on an angle, so she could push. She pushed it in, feeling the door trying to close against her. She pushed harder, letting go, and kicking the hook end with her foot. She felt It jam farther and she stepped back.

The gears whined and strugged against the bar over, and over, unable to close against it. It may not hold forever, but it would long enough. She passed though, stepping gingerly over her jerry rigged contraption.

This was the stairwell The Doctor would come up, so it seemed like her best bet for her original task, the key. She looked around for a place to put it, someplace obvious. He needed to see it.

The answer was staring her in the face. There was a glass fire extinguisher box hanging on the wall in the landing. It was hard to miss, being big and red. That was perfect.

She had to think of a way to secure it. The tape was an option but it was sloppy and could look like a repair, making him miss it. It was unlikly, but she didnt need to chance it. That was no good. She dug around in her pockets, finding a folded piece of paper. She was going to use it for a shopping list when she and The Doctor where going food shopping in the 2091 Mega Mart, but he suprised her with this trip instead. In light of recent events she would have prefered the Mega Mart. She found her pen, and poked a hole in the paper. She then looked at her red cardigan. She found a loose string on the sleeve, and carefully unravelled just a bit, then broke it off. She fed it through the hole, and wrapped it around the key, tying a knot.

She took her pen, and made a small note on the paper.

"To the Doctor, from a friend," she scrawled, and dangled it on the knob. Perfect. He wouldn't miss that. His obsessive compulsive nature wouldn't let him.

One thing left. She ran her hand over her pocket, making sure the Cyber grenade was still intact. She remembered how close the blast sounded. It had to be on the same floor she was when she heard it. That was the floor they started on, right when came out of the lift. She nodded to herself, taking a deep breath. She was getting to old for this.

She ran down the stairs, passing another few landings. She didn't look down any of the halls, lest she alert the Angels of her presence. That would happen soon enough.

Once she reached the proper landing, she ripped down the corridor. She had to beat The Doctor there. She knew he stayed in the lift a bit longer than everyone else, so she had time.

Not enough apparently. As she flew down the adjoining hall, she heard his voice, the Scottish echo of him talking.

"Hardly," she heard him reply.

"Then what are you?" Katrina asked him.

"An idiot in a flying blue box." He returned. They were right around the corner. She sprung for a hotel room door, tearing it open. Luckily it was open, and she jumped inside, shutting the door just as he rounded the corner.

"Shhhh," she heard him scold. She cringed. He had heard her. She prayed he didn't come here, and see her. Who knew what consequences it could have.

Much to her horror, she relized he had heard something else. She herself could hear the footsteps through the wall, coming from the room next to hers. They were too fast, too numerous to be human. Weeping Angels, a lot of them. She heard The Doctor and his companions run by, ducking into a different room up the hall.

Silence fell quickly, only to be broken by a blood curdling screem. She cringed at the deep tone of it. Dirk. Dirk had just died. She opened her eyes. She needed to get these Angels out of the hall, so The Doctor could continue. She took the Cyber genade out of her pocket. It was time.

She needed to lure them into this room. She knew the best way. She walked up to the door and kicked it hard with her foot, once then twice. She opened it, and backed up into the room. She made her main move; she blinked.

Before her like lightning stood five Weeping Angels, their eyes covered. She smiled, pointing her sonic screwdriver at the explosive. It may be defective, but the sonic could set it off.

"This is the problem with your defence mechanism," she said, carfully moving around them, backing to the door, "people can trap you just by looking at you. So your not alive when I'm looking at you... that's alright, I don't need to look at you to blow you up." She pressed the button on her lipstick, arming the grenade. It lit up bright blue, and she tossed it immediately. As she saw it bounce off the head of one statue, she shut the door and took off down the hall. Just as she rounded the corner, the bomb went off, shaking the whole floor. Behind her, the door slammed into the opposite wall, spewing smoke. She stumbled, dropping to her knees, but she scrambled back up. She couldn't dilly dally, not if the Weeping Angels heard that.

That was it. Her task was complete. She needed to run. She needed to hide, wait for The Doctor. She had done her part. Now he had to do his. If she did it right, she could ride out the night. Even if she was going no where, if she could help The Doctor, she would.


	10. Chapter 10: Those Who Seek Atonement

_(Author's Note: Welcome to the final Chapter of Black Inertia. This story is now complete, and I'm happy it is. I would like to thank a few of you out there. First feline38 and GDL, who made sure this looked pretty and listened to countless ideas and yammerings of your's truly. Second, my loyal friend and reader BurgundyHope, who never failed to be a pal when I needed it and give me her opinion, which I will forever value. And last but not least by a long shot, Bannerfanner. Not only is she my friend but soon to be a partner in crime. She and I will be working on a few Twelfth Hour one shots soon. I hope you guys enjoy them as much as you have enjoyed this. To you out there, the reader, I give you thanks too. Without you, I would not be here. Thankyou for staying on board for the long bumpy ride that was Black Inertia, and I hope to see you at our next journey's beginning. Without further rambling of a ridiculous man, the end of Black Inertia.)_

The grin that spread across The Doctor's face felt like it would split his cheeks wide open. He imagined how stupid he must look, but he didn't care. It was far too worth it. What sat before him lifted the shadows that were falling on his heart, and blew away his rage, like wind did clouds. Only a few moments before he was filled with homicidal fury, but all of that was gone.

The room ahead was the Capitans quarters. A long table took up a great deal of the room, set with fine furnishings. The most noticeable fetaures were the display cases of weapons. Taking up the a good deal of space on two of the walls, they were filled with every weapon imaginable. Never had he seen such an assortment of historical arms. It was both impressive and disgusting. Obviously the man who inhabited here never had to do terrible things to survive in conflict. He wouldn't want to have the instruments of murder anywhere near him if he did.

A curious detail puzzeled him though. A hole was cut in one of the glass cases, with an empty pillow on the other side. He wondered what had been there before, and who had taken it.

A few doors led out of this room to the right, and to the left. They likey led to sleeping chambers, or wash rooms. The door he was interested in was the gigantic metal one, covered in gears, and bars. It reminded him of a prison, and he realised how right he was. If that door wasn't deadlock sealed, nothing was.

His main focus, and the cause of his grin, was none of these. A figure sat in a chair at the table, her soulful eyes staring at the door. He recognized her immedeatly, still wearing the red cardigan she disappeared in. He felt tears of the purest joy spring to his eyes.

"Sarah!" he shouted, running across the room. She stood, a smile on her face, and did the same. Somewhere they met in the middle, and he wrapped his spindle arms around her, liftiing his old friend into the air, spinning her around. He didn't care how, or why this happened, or even that it was impossible. Here she was, Sarah Jane.

"Doctor! I'm so glad you made it!" She squeeled, as he put her down, "I was worried sick!" He buried his face in her shoulder, failing to hide his emotion.

"You? I thought I lost you!" he breathed. He never considered never seeing her again. Not until a few minutes ago. It was like someone ripping both hearts from his chest. "I'm so glad your alright! I thought you were gone forever."

He let go, looking at his old friend. Half of him wanted to be sure it was Sarah, the real Sarah Jane, while the other half didn't care, but he had to be sure his mind hadn't snapped like a rubber band. He had to know he hadn't finally lost it. He did the logical thing.

"Your you, right? Your Sarah Jane, not some hallucination. Your real..." he held out his had, awkwardly smoshing his wrinkled thumbs into her cheeks. She felt real. She still smiled, but with a strange, quizzical look. He turned around, looking at Dawson, and Katrina, his eyes almost bulging out. "You can see her, can't you? She's real?" Dawson looked on, stunned.

"Of course she's real, you crazy old git!" the engineer shouted.

"Good God, Sarah... how?" he ghasped. This shouldn't be happening. It shouldn't be possible.

"When I got touched, I was only sent backwards a few hours, and I was still on the ship," she explained.

"Of course!" he shouted, "child, you were touched by a child! How could I be so stupid!" He had forgotten that they only sent people back short amounts, more like a hop, than a jump. If it hadn't been Sarah Jane, perhaps his facilities would have been in order, but he admittedly lost it when it was her.

"It was me Doctor," she went on, ignoring his outburst, "upstairs. The trapped Angels, the crowbar in the door, the bomb, the key, all of it. I did all of it." He smacked himself in the forehead.

"Of course it was! It makes complete sense." How did he not see this? Idiot in a blue box, that's how.

"How did you get here?" he asked.

"After I was through, I hid In the kitchen, because the Angels can't go there. Then, when I knew you were coming I locked myself in here, and waited."

"Sarah I... I don't even," he began. There was so much rattling around in his head.

"Not to interrupt this, but why don't we reprogram this God damn ship before those things get in here." The Doctor turned again. Dawson was right.

"Yes, yes. We should." He pointed the sonic screwdriver at the door, shutting it. If any Angels came, it was an extra barrier. He walked passed his old friend, pulling the key from his pocket. It was time to end all of this.

He fit the key into the lock, and twisted. The dull thunks started, followed by moving tumblers. The gears spun, and the bars moved up, and into the ceiling. Slowly the door creaked open.

The control room was a long rectangular chamber full of glowing orange consoles. The windows ahead gazed into space. Those same suns, and nebulaes greeted him, painting the room yellow, and green.

His view of the grandure was interrupted by a dull thunk behind him, coming from the entry door. Two more followed then a storm of sound erupted, slamming on the metal. He took a deep breath, gripping the sonic tight.

"Oh God, no, what are we going to do?" Katrina wailed. The Doctor walked back into the room.

"Dawson! Can you reconfigure the ship by yourself?" he bellowed.

"Absolutely," he replied, stalking to the deadlocked doorway.

"Good, get to it."

"Why don't we just lock ourselves in there and hunker down?" Sarah Jane asked. The Doctor shook his head.

"We need to hold them back, buy Dawson time," he replied, "it's time to stop running. I've run from them for too long. It's time to fight." It was time for payback. Time to make up for all the people they killed. "You," he yelled to Katrina, "snap out of it. Panicking helps no one. Watch the door." He knew they didn't have long before they ripped through the door.

"Doctor, what is the plan?" Sarah Jane asked. She looked ready to fight.

"Eyes open, on the door. Two are better than one. How are you with using a weapon?" He hated to ask that of her. She hated guns.

"In this circumstance, more than happy." He nodded, thrusting his screwdriver into the air. He pressed the button, emiting an ear piercing whine. The glass around them quivered and shook, shattering with a crash.

"Take your pick." She walked to the wall, pulling a long, black laser rifle off the rack. He knew it well, the weapon of the old models of Cybermen. She pumped the barrel, and it lit up bright red, ready to go. He walked to the wall as well, grabbing a laser pistol himself. He had an idea.

Without warning the door fell off the hinges, and Katrina screamed wildly. The Doctor turned to see the hoard of statues before them, standing in the doorway, three rows thick. The front monsters had their faces uncovered, and their hands outstretched.

"Remember Sarah, you can't look at them when you shoot, or their just statues. You have to fire blind to kill them!" He yelled. He pointed the screwdriver at the gun in his hand, eliciting a whine.

"Katrina, get behind me, now!" He yelled. She ran as the gun in his hand lit up, sporadically pulsing cancer green.

"Sarah, look away. Now," he bellowed, throwing the gun into the opening, and shutting his eyes.

The room shook as an electrical explosion ripped through the room and a cacophonous crash followed. Dust filled his nose, assaulting his lungs, causing him to cough. He opened his eyes.

The door the Angles had been coming through was gone, buried in a pile of rubble. A hole now gaped in the ceiling, wires now hanging down, sparking erratically. Under the pile, he could see mangled, and cracked stone limbs of those who rushed into his trap.

"Is that it? Is it over." Katrina trembeled from behind. Sarah Jane glanced back, shooting him a nod. They had bought time to be sure.

"I'm almost done back here!" Dawson shouted, his voice muffled. The Doctor felt the ship shift beneath them, rapidly making a sharp turn. Dawson was doing his job. Good.

A loud banging started again, followed by the crack of splintering wood. It came from the right. Sarah Jane was first to move, with The Doctor right behind. They arrived at one of the other doors, and she flung it open.

A hall greeted them, leading to a bathing chamber with lavish trimmings. The gilded surroundings made the scene all the more horrifying.

Clawed stone hands jutted through the walls, almost a dozen of them. Boards of wood, and broken plaster littered the floor in the wake of Angelic fury.

"Oh God, their coming through the wall!" Sarah Jane screemed. She put the Cyber-gun up to her shoulder, and squeezed the trigger.

A bright blue electric beam shot from the orange barrel, jarring the gun up, scortching a hole in the ceiling. The Doctor recoiled, and moved to Sarah's side, grabbing the top of the laser gun with both hands, forcing the powerful gun level for her. With him steadying it, they painted the wall with the plasma beam together, immoliating what was left of the already broken wall, into an ashen mess. When Sarah Jane stopped, the wall was aflame, the hands decintegrated by the vicious assault.

"You alright?" she asked as he let go.

"Quite." He was happy this was a Cyber-Rifel. If it had been any other weapon his hands would have been burned to a crisp. Luckily, they insulated their arms.

In that moment the pair glanced to each other, another crack erupted from the burning wall. With a crash it came tumbling down, and as they looked up, a pair of Angels stood where it had been.

Sarah Jane readied again, this time placing one hand atop the gun, and setting her feet. The Doctor aimed his screwdriver at the gun, hoping to power it further. They both shut their eyes. Sarah Jane squeezed the trigger, and he depressed the button.

He heard the footsteps as the whump of the laser drowned them out. He felt the heat off the gun in his face. The sonic had powered it to be sure. A siren from the gun wailed, and they opened their eyes.

Four Angels lay in a melted mess in the hall, globbed to the floor in a gooey pile. The bathroom wall behind them was utterly ravaged, blown into oblivion. They could see clear into three rooms beyond it, smoke filling the hall. One Angel still menaced them, moving in following the assault. The crown of thorns revealed her nature.

Sarah Jane pulled the trigger, but all the gun did was puff blue smoke. No charge. She looked at The Doctor, who still stared at their foe. The pair started backing up, and Sarah Jane turned her gun around, throwing it as hard as she could. It ineffectually bouncing off the stone women's face. The Doctor slammed thr door in it's face, as more filled the hall, creating another weak barrier. The pair ran as the door splintered.

"Get to the control room," he yelled, as Katrina started off too. The door broke behind them as they nearly reached the deadlocked room.

The Doctor turned to view the Angel, hoping to stop it. Katrina was in a full run behind them, terror etched on her face, a scream coming from her lips. Faster than he could see, her full run was over, her scream cut short into silence, and she disappeared before his eyes. Behind her stood the Archangel, a wickid grin on it's hidious face, its eyes filled with evil glee.

"I'm done," Dawson hollered, coming out to see the warzone before them. The Doctor backed up, Sarah Just ahead of him, but Dawson stalked forward, heafting up his fire axe.

"Time for you to pay for what you've done to Ursula, to Katrina, and to me, you ugly bitch!" Dawson yealled and he swung his axe as hard as his body would let him.

The Archangel's crowned head flew from it's body, smashing into the wall. His next swing to it's stone legs, knocking it down, and a third lodged his blade in her chest. Leaving his weapon behind, he backed up, the remaining three entering the control room. The Doctor scooped up the key, flinging shut the door with a thunderous slam. The gears and tumblers turned, closing it tight.

They looked at the door, hearing the relentless pounding on the other side.

"It's done Doctor, I programed it to fly into the sun," Dawson, huffed, sitting on one of the panels. The Doctor turned away from his companions, looking out the windows.

The nebulas and galaxies were gone, replaced by a roaring, ourange, angry sun. He averted his eyes, not interested in seeing the molten ball any longer.

Katrina, she was gone too now. She had been young, and kind. Too kind. He couldn't even protect her. He looked back, wishing he had turned a second or two earlier. He may have saved her.

"I'm going to try and get us out of here," he growled, "it will take them awhile to pound through the door. We have time." He dug around in the shirt pocket, finding his Tardis key. He pointed his sonic screwdriver at it, and pressed the button. He felt it vibrate in his hand, and the tool whined. The Tardis could feel that. Feel the call.

"Come on, come on Sweetie, come to Papa," he whispered.

"You think she'll come?" Sarah Jane asked.

"I hope so. Come on," he shook the key and tried again.

He glanced back out the window, looking for his ship. He saw nothing.

"If she don't at least we're taking these things with us. Thats something," Dawson said.

The Doctor tried again, moving his screwdriver closer. The key vibrated again, harder.

The sound erupted through the silent room, drowning out the pounding on the door. The loud grinding so familar to him, so alien it could be no other ship. He lept to his feet.

"Yes! Yes! That's it!" he cheered. In the corner of the room, the bright blue phonebox began to manifest, winking in, and out, until it became fully solid, with a clunk. "Thankyou thankyou thankyou!" He ran to his ship, hugging it. "Come on, lets get out of here." Sarah Jane moved to the Tardis as well, but Dawson stayed put, his eyes on the door.

"Come on Dawson, we're getting out of here, hurry up!" The Doctor called out.

"I'm not going Doctor." Dawson replied, eyeing him.

"What do you mean, don't be stupid," he returned.

"I'm dead Doctor, look at me," he motioned to the patches of rocky concrete peeking through his skin, and his clawed fist, "you can't fix this. I know it. I may as well go down with the ship, and make sure they don't figure out how to change course, and do this go more people."

"Dawson you can't..." Sarah Jane started.

"I have to," he cut off, "neither of you can. The galaxy needs you two. Look at what you did. You got us all this far before we went down. We woulda' been dead in five minutes without you two. Fact is, galaxy don't need me. It needs you."

"Dawson I..."

"Get in your bloody ship and fly the hell out of here," he said gruffly, "and thankyou."

"For what?" The Doctor asked. For killing you? He silently added. He wouldn't say that.

"Even though ain't no one gonna know it, you made my life more important than just an engineer on a cruise ship. So I'm gonna sit here, and stop more people from losing their lives. Go! Hurry!" Dawson finished.

Sarah Jane opened the Tardis door, entering it. The Doctor lingered, staring at the engeneer. Sarah Jane grabbed his hand, pulling him in. If he hadn't shut the door, he may have seen Dawson smile. The Tardis faded out, flying off Into space from whence it came, leaving the doomed Black Inertia behind, slowly careening into the sun.

* * *

Sarah Jane watched as The Doctor quietly twiddled with buttons, and leavers on the Tardis control panel. He was silent, seeming absent. She wondered what was going on in his head. She knew better than to ask. As the amber Time Roter gently moved up, and down, he walked away from the console, sitting down on the metal steps, his blue eyes staring intensely into nothing.

Sarah Jane walked over to him, plopping down beside him. He didn't look at her, nor did he move. She waited. He would come around. She knew him that well to know that.

"We lost them all..." he said abruptly, not moving his eyes, "I failed..."

"You didn't fail, stop saying that," Sarah Jane countered, "we stopped the Weeping Angels. We saved people."

"Perhaps, but not the ones I was with. I had a direct hand in their deaths. If I had left with them when I had the chance..."

"More innocent people would have died, because you did nothing. You can't do this to yourself Doctor. You did the right thing," she answered. He turned to her, with a light smile, and laid his hand on her knee.

"You have a way of making someone feel better about things they shouldn't, you always did."

"If you thought I was going to let you have your little pity party, your wrong." He chuckled in return, shaking his head.

"You don't know what it's like Sarah Jane. I've see so much war, so much death. Lost so much. It makes you raw. It gets difficult to carry." She felt cold, and nervous at the idea that sprung into her head.

"Then maybe it's time you stop carrying it on your own," she replied.

"What?" he questioned, giving her a sidelong glance, "I don't..."

"I know what you can do with your mind, that you can show people your memories. Show me yours. Let someone carry it with you. You don't need to..."

"I can't do that Sarah, there's too many memories in my head, it would blow up your brain," he replied. She shook her head.

"Not all of them, just some. Enough to take some of the pain away. Or help you feel not so alone."

"I still can't... I can't show you those things. I don't want them, and they're in my head, let alone, if you saw them... I can't do that to you," he said, covering his face, and rubbing his eyes.

"Well you can't keep doing this, can you?" she asked rhetorically. She turned his head to her, looking him dead in the eyes. "We're partners as long as I'm in the Tardis, remember? You have carried me for decades, and the burdens of the entire universe alone for far too long. It's time someone carries yours for awhile, no matter how heavy. Doctor I want this, and if our rolls were reversed, you would do it for me. Whether you want to admit it or not, you need someone to carry these things with you, and I'm someone willing to be that someone." He didn't answer, not right away. Instead he just stared at her, his eyes analyzing her.

"Why..." was his only response. She only smiled.

"Because it's what we do for the people we care about," she replied. He nodded, shutting his eyes. He then looked at her, and nodded a second time.

"Alright, I'll do it," he said adjusting, and rolling up the cuffs of his coat, "are you sure?"

"Yes," she nodded.

"You are going to see a side of me I never wanted you to see. I won't blame you..." She interupted him with a raised finger.

"Nothing you could show me will ever change what I think about you. Ever," she comforted.

"Alright, keep your mind as clear as you can," he instructed gently. He placed his hands on her temples, the tips of his fingers starting to glow gold. "Here we go." The Time Lord leaned in placing his forehead against her's.

At first she felt nothing, then a pull at her consciousness, like something tugging at her. It came all at once, flooding in at once.

She saw her old friend, the vagabond with the scarf. His neckwear floated about him as he fell, landing hard on the ground. His face changed into that of a young blond, in a cricket player's uniform. He started running though time, as the last had. She watched a hansome young man sacrifice himself, smashing a ship into Earth, breaking the Doctor's hearts.

Poison, The Doctor fell to poison, becoming an older man with curly hair, and a wardrobe like a clown.

"You are the Valeyard!" a Time Lord yelled as a smug, grey, old man watched on, the Time Lords putting her old friend on trial for something he hadn't even done yet. More running, his face changing to a harmless, seeming old man.

Daleks. He fought the Daleks alongside a punk girl with safety pins pierced in her ears. He took on Davros again. She saw Skaro go up in a ball of fire.

The Master. Same man, new face, and his defeat. A blaze of gunfire, and The Doctor changed again, into a man in a waistcoat with curly flowing hair. The Master returned, and was tossed into the eye of harmony. Tbe new Doctor ran on.

"Physician, heal thyself," and The Doctor drank from the goblet, changing into a stout, old man with a bandolier of grenades. She had never seen him before. Never had that one visited her.

Creation burned. The full horror of the Time War raged in her mind. Millions of deaths, and screams of Extermination at every second through all of time, and space. She felt them all, watched her best friend fight savagely. Never did she see him before, not this way. He stood in front of the Galaxy Eater.

"No more," he whispered, and Gallifrey expoded, taking everything with it, Time Lords, and Daleks; The Doctor stood alone.

Again he changed, bald with a leather jacket now. Running through time with Rose. Bad Wolf. More Daleks, exploding in yellow light.

He tuned younger with brown hair, looking like a school teacher. His hand fell to the ground, and grew anew on his first day. Cybermen, and a tear in space. Rose, Martha, Donna, and Jack. Then Davros. She herself had been present for that. Earth moved, two Doctors, and Donna saved the day. More death, but Earth was saved.

"My name is the Master!" the blond man shouted. Lightning sparked from his hands. Gallifrey appeared, and was sent back. The Doctor absorbed radiation in place of a sweet old man. Light envelopes him.

Young again, with a mess of hair, and a bowtie. Amy, Rory, and The Raggedy Doctor; running, always running together. River... The Doctor's Wife. Love blossoms in the carnage of the Silence. Weeping Angles. Amy and Rory... just gone.

The Impossible Girl, running right beside him. She jumped into his time stream, and he followed. Three versions of him come together. Gallifrey rewritten. Gallifrey Stands.

Trenzalor. Eight hundred years of war. Beloved as a toymaker, and a defender, all for a crack in the wall, and the words Doctor Who? He walked into battle, twirling a cane. Old, and frail his body, filled with new regenerations. Daleks fall from the sky, blasted to oblivion by his renewal.

Here he was, old and Scottish. Running with the Impossible Girl. Cybermen, Daleks forests, and nightmares.

"Well I can't very well call myself The Master, can I?" The Woman laughed, leading the robot charge.

"I found Gallifrey, I'm going back," he lied sweetly, climbing in his Tardis. There he was, sitting in the café, when she herself came walking in. All of that, and more whipped through her head.

The Tardis interior blipped back to her in an instant, as her old friend took his head away solemnly. She looked at him, tears in her eyes.

So much pain. So much death. He fought so bravely, sometimes losing, sometimes not. The Time War obviously weighed on him the most. She saw him fight... the terrible things he did to survive. She had seen the horrors she knew kept him up at night, some done by others, some by himself.

"If you want me to take you home I will, and I understand," he said darkly. She looked at him, and could not help but feel different. Not the way he thought, however.

"You are so brave" she whispered, "I always knew you were, but you are even braver than I ever imagined. You did terrible things, yes, but for the good of everyone in the universe. You made the ultimate sacrifice no one else was willing to make. I don't care what you think of yourself, in my book that makes you a good man. And you can't make me think otherwise."

He didn't answer right away, instead staring like she grew another head. He looked away, off into the wall.

"Sarah Jane... thankyou," he whispered. They stayed there, sitting on that stairwell for the rest of the night.

* * *

The figure walked slowly down the empty halls of the doomed Black Inertia. He stopped before the windows, looking out into the flaming sun. His tall stature, and Victorian coat cast a long shadow across the glowing floor, as he looked out into the vast fire of the star.

He heard the padding footsteps, running up the hall, coming for him. The Angel was looking for dinner. It would have none.

He held out his hand, straight at the oncomming Angel. Without looking, a blue light erupted from his palm, flinging it backwards. It flew through the air, smashing against the wall, disintegrating to ash. He didn't need his thoughts interrupted right now.

"Always so willing to sacrifice others on your bloodsoaked trail of devistation, aren't you Doctor?" He wondered if he should call him the Doctor now. The Time Lord had, and would go by many other names before his life ended: The Oncomming Storm, The Warrior, The Renegade, The Valeyard, The Beast, The Emporor, The Hybred, The Conqueror, The Destroyer; all, and more were in his past, or future.

He smiled a bit. His reign of terror would end soon. The man placed his tophat upon his greying head, and ticked away on the buttons of the Vortex Manipulator. In a flash he was gone, as flames enveloped the ship, leaving it to it's fate.


End file.
